The Unmasked Mystery IV
by Azaelia Silmarwen
Summary: [To be re-written]. [Slow updates]. You all know of my tale of my last three years at Hogwarts, but none of you know how I was able to protect my secret, how my loving family revealed the truth to me, or how I first met Draco, Ron and Hermione. So join me through my first four years at Hogwarts. Prequel to the Unmasked Mystery I.
1. The Beginning

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED. FAIR USE ONLY.**

**It is recommended to read the previous Unmasked Mystery stories. This is the prequel to Unmasked Mystery I.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE: THE BEGINNING<strong>

I always knew that I was different, but I never knew that my differences would help me heal my broken family. You know of my tale of my last three years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but none of you know how I was able to protect my secret, how my loving family revealed the truth to me, or how I first met Draco, Ron and Hermione. So join me through my first four years at Hogwarts.

Growing up at the Dursleys, I knew I was different, and not because I was unloved by my relatives, or because I had to wear my whale of a cousins handy downs which were miles to big for me. It wasn't even because I was called a freak and had no friends. No, the reason I knew that I was different was due to the fact I could change into a girl, not that I ever told anyone. Who knows what would have happened if I did. However, my so called family knew since I accidently changed in front of them. That would have been the worst punishment of my life after that little incident. They warned me - no, threatened me - that if I ever did that again, they would send me away to a horrible orphanage, after I got a good beating. Sometimes I use to consider doing it on purpose, just to leave Privet Drive once and for all, but something always stopped me, and no, it wasn't the beating that stopped me. So I stayed with the Dursleys hoping that there was in fact someone out there that cared for me and would come and take me away.

Anyway, I'm glad that I stayed. If I hadn't, I might not have learnt the truth. The real reason why the Dursleys treated me like dirt. The Dursleys secret came out the night Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Ground, from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, came to rescue me. Turned out that I was a wizard, just like my dead parents, the only difference was that I was famous. I was famous because I survived a curse that was believed to be impossible to survive and in the process, I somehow managed to vanquish the darkest and most powerful Dark Lord of all time, Lord Voldemort. Little did I know at the time, that this Lord Voldemort would have a huge impact on my future and he would mean more to me than just being a dangerous enemy. However, my story begins after I left the Dursleys and hoped of the Hogwarts Express from Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

It was on this train ride that I became best friends with Ronald Weasley, though we call him Ron for short. He was the youngest son out of six sons, with a little sister named Ginny. I first met him briefly when I had to ask his mother, Mrs Weasley, how to get onto the platform. He was tall, thin and gangly, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. At first he was really awkward around me and was embarrassed because his family wasn't able to afford many luxury items, but after a while, he became comfortable with me presence and we were chatting like old friends. He was in fact my first friend. It was as we were eating our way through a pile of sweets that I first met Hermione. A bushy brown haired girl with rather large front teeth and a bossy voice. At first I didn't like her and was so grateful when she left our compartment.

The journey to Hogwarts was soon over and I hopped off the train, with Ron, to be met with a familiar voice.

'Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?'

I looked up at the massive form that had appeared above me and smiled when I recognised who it was. It was Hagrid.

'C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!' Hagrid called and I quickly hurried after him, followed then by the hesitant other first years, who didn't know what to make of Hagrid. I myself had be frightened by him at first, but I now knew that he was actually a big softie had heart.

It was during this process, of following Hagrid, that I realised another reason why I was different to other kids my age. While the other first years slipped and stumbled down a steep, narrow path, I remained upright and never once did I slip of stumble, though I nearly fell to the ground when Ron slipped and grabbed onto me.

As we rounded the corner of the path, there was a series of "Oooohs" from the first years as we caught sight of Hogwarts. I myself gasped at how magnificent it looked, as it stood atop a high mountain with its windows sparkling in the starry sky, on the many turrets and towers.

'No more'n four to a boat!' Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore and snapping my attention away from the castle that I would soon call home.

I ended up hopping into the same boat as Ron, followed by Hermione and a round faced boy, who I would eventually become close friends with, named Neville Longbottom.

Once everyone was in, Hagrid made the fleet of boats sail forward across the glimmering black lake towards the castle. The journey was surprisingly short, though that might have been because I couldn't tear my eyes away from the castle. Once we had reached an underground harbor, we clambered out onto rocks and pebbles, before following Hagrid up a passageway and coming out onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. We walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door which Hagrid knocked three times upon. The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face. The first thought that crossed my mind was the fact that she was not someone to cross, but then, as I looked at her more closely, I saw that she in fact looked familiar to me, as though I had known her a long time ago. I soon got rid of that theory. There was no way I could have met her before since my Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would never associate themselves with a witch or wizard.

'The firs' years, Professor McGonagall,' said Hagrid, snapping me from my thoughts.

'Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.' replied Professor McGonagall as she scanned the crowd of first years.

She must be looking for someone, I thought before following her into the actual castle and into empty chamber off the main hall.

'Welcome to Hogwarts,' said Professor McGonagall, though her eyes still seemed to be looking for someone. 'The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be like your family. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking -' she looked down the front at me and Ron, but once she found my eyes, she didn't look away. Instead she searched my face and I could see that her eyes were now filled with pain, joy and sadness. ' - will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour.' McGonagall forced her eyes away from me. 'I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.'

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. I nervously tried to flatten me hair.

'I shall return when we are ready for you,' said McGonagall, taking once last look at me, before leaving the room.

'How exactly do they sort us into houses?' I whispered to Ron.

'Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.' replied Ron.

Fred was one of his old brothers, whose twins name was George. I had met them on the train and they seemed very nice, but I also got the feeling that they like to pull pranks and have fun, so I dismissed the thought of it being a test. After all, maybe half of my fellow first years would have come from a Muggle family and they would have about as much knowledge of the wizarding world as my cousin Dudley. Well, except for Hermione, who was currently going on about the books see had memorised and the things she had learnt before coming here.

Ron and I shared a look as she kept going on and on as we were waiting for McGonagall to return. It was going to be a long seven years if we had to listen to her go on like that every day.

It was then that I first met Draco. If you had told me that in my fifth year we would start dating and eventually would get married and have children, I would have told you that you were barking mad. Why? Draco just reminded me strongly of Dudley - who I didn't have a very good relationship with - and when he insulted Ron then suggested we'd be friends...I couldn't. I could never be friends with someone who thought they were better than anyone else, so I turned him down, just before McGonagall arrived back to get us, before leading us into the Great Hall.

The moment I stepped foot into the Great Hall, my jaw dropped. It was unbelievable. Thousands of tall, white candles stood floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. However, what impressed me the most was the ceiling, which had been bewitched to look like the sky, according to Hermione. I found it hard to believe there was a ceiling there and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

I quickly looked down again as McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. I was confused. Were we meant to do something with this ancient looking hat or what? I looked around at the other first years and they looked equally confused, while the teachers and older students sat there in complete silence looking at the hat, as though expecting it to do something. I turned my attention back to it in time to see it twitch before a rip near the brim opened and it began to sing. I stood there stunned as it sung its song, before hesitantly clapping with the rest of the school as it fell quiet and still once more.

McGonagall then stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

'When I call your name, you will come forth, I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses.' she said. 'Abbott, Hannah!'

I mildly watched the sorting before turning my attention to the teachers. Right in the middle of the teachers table I recognised Albus Dumbledore - I had seen a picture of him on the Hogwarts Express - and saw that he was watching the sorting and he seemed sort of impatient, for he kept glancing at the rest of us first years. Frowning, I saw that the seat on his right was empty and assumed that it belonged to McGonagall, before looking to his left and my eyes studied a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. Then, as though this teacher knew that I was looking at him, he glanced over and looked at me directly in the eyes, with a small amount of curiosity in them and another emotion that I couldn't decipher. In fact, this teachers body language was different to the other teachers. While there emotions could be seen quite clearly, this teacher's couldn't.

We stared at each other were about a minute, before he looked away and whispered something to Dumbledore, while I turned my attention back to the sorting to watch as Hermione eagerly hurried forward, before being sorted into Gryffindor. Ron groaned beside me. He didn't want her to be in that house since he was likely to be going in there.

Soon there wasn't many people left and I knew that it would soon be my turn to be sorted. "Moon", "Nott", "Parkinson", then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" then "Perks, Sally-Anne" and then, at last - 'Potter, Harry!'

As I stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

'Potter, did she say?'

'The Harry Potter?'

I knew that I was probably going to be in for a long year if everyone was going to constantly whisper about me, but amongst all the whispering, I noticed Dumbledore sit up straighter along with the hooked-nose teacher and saw they were both looking at me curiously, as was McGonagall. The rest of the teachers just looked interested, so why were these three teachers acting differently?

The last thing I saw before the hat dropped over my eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at me. Next second I was looking at the black inside of the hat. I waited, wondering what was going to happen.

'Hmm,' said a small voice in my ear, making me start slightly. 'Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, and - now that's interesting...So where shall I put you?'

I blinked, wondering what was interesting at first, but decided to think "Not Slytherin", over and over again in my head. I didn't want to go there. I had heard horrible things about that house and I didn't want to have a bar of them.

'Not Slytherin, eh?' said the hat. 'Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!'

The last word wasn't said in my ear, but rather shouted out to the rest of the hall. I relaxed. I was likely to be with Ron and away from Draco who had been sorted into Slytherin.

Grinning, I felt the hat being pulled off my head. I glanced over at McGonagall and she seemed to be fighting the urge to smile. Odd.

Shrugging it off, I went and sat across from Hermione with my new house mates and before long, Ron was sitting next to me, looking relieved. I laughed and turned my attention to Dumbledore, who had risen to make a speech.

'Welcome,' he said. 'Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.'

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins, while the hooked nosed teacher looked at me knowingly. Did he expect me to be the same as the Weasley twins or something? And if so, why did he think that?

'I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.'

I laughed lightly. The headmaster couldn't be serious, could he? I mean, what kind of school would hold something that could result in the death of a student.

'He is not serious, is he?' I asked Ron's other brother Percy who was the Gryffindors male Prefect.

'Oh, he's being serious.' said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. 'It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least.'

'Now let the feast, begin.' said Dumbledore, clapping his hands together and making food appear on the table in front of them.

I had never seen so much food and began to pile nearly every type of food in reach onto my plate, not caring with anyone thought of me as a pig. I was hungry and I had never seen such lushy food before.

Anyway, during dinner I spoke with my new friends and house mates about our family's - though I remained silent not wanting everyone to know of my home life - and I had to admit that I was extremely jealous to hear what kind of family life they had. I wished that I had stories of loving parents, though Neville never spoke of his parents only his grandmother. I did not pry as to why he did not mention them. I was sure he had a good reason not to mention them.

Dinner went by with no dramas and I was soon following Percy and the rest of the Gryffindor first years to the Gryffindor Tower where the Gryffindor common room was located. I soon discovered that the entrance to the tower was guarded by a fat woman in a pink silk dress, known as the Fat Lady.

'Password?' she said as we stopped in front of her surprising me. I knew portraits could move but I didn't know that they could talk too.

'Caput Draconis,' answered Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall which we all then scrambled and into the Gryffindor common room, a cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

We then went our separate ways. The female first years went to their dormitory while I went with Ron, Neville, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas to the boys dormitories. This was the part that I was dreading most. For some reason I had never been comfortable sharing a dorm or anything with other boys, though I don't know why.

Any who, while the other boys got changed into their pyjamas - how I wished they used the bathroom to change like me - I sat averting my gaze and staring across the moonlit lake. Even when my dorm mates went to bed, I sat there thinking. Thinking about what I had left behind and thinking about what was about to come.

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><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page: <strong>link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 10 January 2012  
><strong>Updated:<strong>


	2. Life at Hogwarts

**CHAPTER TWO: LIFE AT HOGWARTS**

The next few days were slightly difficult for me, having to become accustomed to my dorm mates dressing and undressing in front of me, instead of using the bathroom like me, though Neville wasn't so bad, having to find my way around the school and then there was the lessons themselves. They could be quite challenging in themselves, which I found quite fascinating. It was the first time I really had to challenge myself. Every other year at school I use to find the work to easy and was the best in my year, until I got sick of all the other kids calling me names and what not. I then purposely made my marks lower. Anyway, that wasn't going to happen here. Here at Hogwarts, my grades were going to be that of an average student my age.

On my first few days, I had already had Charms with tiny Professor Flitwick, Herbology with Professor Sprout, Astronomy with Professor Sinistra and Transfiguration with strange Professor McGonagall. It was McGonagall that confused me once again. While my other teachers acted normal around me and kept a close eye on all my classmates equally, McGonagall seemed to only have eyes for me. When I told Ron about it he just shrugged it off saying that I was imagining it. However, it was on my third day that I got a real taste of what I assumed my life would be like for the next seven years.

The day started off like any other - except for the fact Ron and I managed to make it to the Great Hall without getting lost and except for the fact that I got an invitation to spend the afternoon with Hagrid - until we had our first potions lesson. It had been rumoured that Professor Severus Snape always favoured Slytherin House, seeing as he was the Head of Slytherin House, and that he wasn't a pleasant or helpful professor...I soon discovered that they weren't just rumours...they were actually true.

The lesson began with Snape calling the role, before addressing the silent and nervous class.

'There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class,' he began in nothing more than a whisper. However, we could hear every word clearly and I realised that he had the same ability to keep a class silent without any effort just like professor McGonagall. 'As such I don't expect many of you to understand or appreciate this subtle science and exact art of potion making. Nor do I expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.'

The class remained silent after his little speech. I exchanged a look with Ron, before glancing around the classroom. The vast majority of the class looked nervous while Draco Malfoy looked calm and Hermione was on the edge of her seat trying to prove that she wasn't a dunderhead.

Snape looked around at the silent class before his eyes fell upon me. He silently looked at me, and I looked back at him nervously. I didn't like how his expressions were masked, nor did I like his cold black eyes.

'Potter!' he said at last. 'What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?'

I stared at him. Wormwood sounded familiar from when I read _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_, but apart from that I didn't have a clue what he was on about, though Hermione did since her hand went flying in the air.

'I don't know, sir.' I admitted

Snape then seemed to sneer at me.

'Then let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?'

'I don't know, sir.' I said, glancing sideways at Hermione who still had her hand in the air. 'Though I think it has something to do with a goat.'

'And what is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?' Snape asked immediately after.

'Er...nothing?'

'Are you asking me that back, or is that your answer?' asked Snape.

'My answer, sir.'

Snape stared at me calmly, not giving any emotions away, before telling the class the answers to the questions he had just asked me. I was then shocked when he went on with the lesson and didn't quiz anyone else. Out of everyone in the class, why did he quiz me? It just didn't seem fair. I got the feeling that he would be extremely firm with me, compared to the rest of my classmates.

As the lesson went on, I began to think that I had just imagined Snape's particular harshness to me, but I was wrong. Snape put us all into pairs and set us to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils, which seemed easy enough to me. I mean, potion making was like cooking, right? Anyway, Snape swept around in his long black cloak, watching as we all weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising almost everyone - especially me, for doing even the slightest thing wrong - except Draco, whom he seemed to like, though liked was probably an understatement. I could see from their behaviour that he had known Draco for a long time, and Draco seemed to be at ease talking to the Potions Master.

Snape was just telling us all to look at the perfect way Draco had stewed his horned slugs - I had to admit, Draco did have the potion perfect, even better than Hermione's - when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was oozing across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

'Idiot boy!' snarled Snape, looking positively frightening as he cleared the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. 'I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?'

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. I couldn't believe this teacher was so mean. Neville was in pain and all Snape was doing was yelling at him.

'Take him up to the hospital wing,' Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on me and Ron, seeing as we were working next to Neville. 'You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's one point from Gryffindor.'

'What?' I yelled as Snape made to turn away. 'Why are you punishing me when I had nothing to do with it?'

'Don't you dare take that tone with me, Potter?' Snape said quietly. 'I do not appreciate having students yelling at me.'

'And I don't appreciate being punished for something I didn't do!' I snapped back. Most of the class looked impressed and scared at my actions.

Something flickered briefly in Snape's black eyes, before he said coldly, 'Five points from Gryffindor, and it will be more if you do not hold your tongue.'

He then turned his back on me, but that didn't stop me glaring at him as he went back over to speak to Draco.

As Ron and I climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, my mind was racing and my spirits were low. Why? Well, I had lost six points for Gryffindor in my very first week, within an hour. This made me think - why did Snape hate me so much? And why was he so much sterner and harsher on me than the other students? The only time I had seen this behaviour before was when I was in primary school and my teacher's daughter was in my class. He was always much harsher on her than anyone else, but that couldn't be the case with Snape...could it?

'Cheer up,' said Ron, interrupting me from my depressing thoughts. 'Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?'

'Um...yeah...sure, why not? I'm sure Hagrid wouldn't mind.' I said absently. Maybe I could ask Hagrid about Snape's behaviour.

At five to three Ron and I left the castle and made our way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. When I knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, 'Back, Fang - back.'

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

'Hang on,' he said. 'Back, Fang.'

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling; a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

'Make yerselves at home,' said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at me, knocked me to the ground and started licking every part of me face he could reach. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

'Oh, sorry, 'Arry.' Hagrid said apologetically, quickly coming forward to get Fang off me.

'That's okay!' I laughed. 'He's just being friendly is all. Aren't you, boy?' I added to Fang, patting his head. 'This is Ron, by the way.' I said, getting back onto my feet and motioning to Ron.

'Another Weasley, eh?' said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles and flaming red hair as he put some rock cakes on the table. 'I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest.'

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth – they gave a new meaning to the name "rock cakes" -, but Ron and I pretended to be enjoying them as we told Hagrid all about our first lessons. Fang rested his head on my knee and drooled all over my robes, not that I cared. I sat their absently patting his head and scratching his ears. Anyway, during this time, I told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told me not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

'But he seemed to really hate me and is harsher and sterner on me then the rest of the students!' I argued. 'Every time I did the slightest thing wrong, he'd be there telling me off while ignoring everyone else's little mistakes!'

'Rubbish!' said Hagrid. 'Why should he and would he?'

'You tell me,' I replied, when I noticed Hagrid avoiding my eyes.

Hagrid pretended that he hadn't heard me and turned to Ron asking about his brother Charlie. I watched them talking for a bit before picking up a cutting from the Daily Prophet that was on the table:

_GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST_

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault in question had in fact been emptied the same day._

_'But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you,' said a Gringotts spokes goblin this afternoon._

I stared at what was written in front of me. Hadn't Hagrid told me that you would be made to break into Gringotts for it was the safest place in the world, except perhaps Hogwarts? However, as I re-read over the article, I saw the date on which the break in had occurred and my eyes widened.

'Hagrid!' I said interrupting Ron and Hagrid's discussion on what Charlie was up tp. 'That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!'

There was no doubt about it; Hagrid definitely didn't meet my eyes this time. He grunted and offered me another rock cake. I politely declined and read the story again. _The vault in question had in fact been emptied earlier that same day_. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen when he removed the grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for? This question continued to nag me all the way back to the castle and throughout the night. I was still brooding over it when I went to bed along with several other questions. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell me?

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

As the weeks went on, I became accustomed to life at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I found it easier to move around the castle, and even happened upon a couple secret passages with Ron and I used to get to class on time. Ron and I had also become very good friends. So good in fact, that one would have thought that we were brothers (if we had the same coloured hair, that is). However, life at Hogwarts wasn't perfect. Professor Severus Snape was still harsher on me than any other student and it took a considerable amount of effort not to pull out my wand and try and jinx Draco Malfoy.

Growing up I had always believed that Dudley would be the one boy I would hate immensely, but Draco had proven me wrong. Ever since we first met, I knew that I would have trouble getting along with him, but as the weeks wore on it became clear that Draco and I would never get along. We were too different. I was thankful, though, that we only had potions together, but that was until I discovered that the Gryffindors would have flying lessons with the Slytherins.

'Typical.' I said hotly when Seamus told us the night before flying lessons would start. 'Just want I've always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy!'

'You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself,' said Ron reasonably. 'Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk.'

'Somehow I highly doubt it.'

'Don't worry, Harry. I'm sure you will do fine.' Neville said confidently as I climbed into bed.

The morning of our first flying lesson, the Gryffindor first years all had to listen to Hermione Granger bored us all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else, including me, were very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

I always enjoyed the arrival of the mail, regardless of the fact that I never got any. For some reason, it just intrigued me. Nearly every morning I would watch as the owls soared above us all looking for the owner of the parcel or letter they were delivering.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

'I've never seen a marble like that before.' I said earning curious looks for my fellow Gryffindors excluding the Muggle-borns and half-bloods.

'It's a Remembrall!' Neville explained, looking at me curiously. 'Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh...' His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, 'You've forgotten something...'

'So that's all it does? Tells you that you have forgotten something?' I said. 'Huh, would be even more useful if it told you what you had forgotten or at least gave you a hint to help you remember.'

'Especially for me,' said Neville as he tried to remember what he had forgotten.

As he was trying to remember what he'd forgotten, Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. Ron and I both jumped to our feet, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school - except perhaps Snape - was there in a flash.

'What's going on?'

'Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor.'

Scowling, Draco quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

'Just looking,' he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, I went with Ron and the other Gryffindors down the front steps and onto the grounds for our first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under our feet as we hurried down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. According to Fred and George Weasley, some school brooms started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. And then there was their teacher, Madam Hooch, who was standing there impatiently. She had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

'Well, what are you all waiting for?' she barked as we stopped in front of her. 'Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.'

We hurriedly obeyed and I ended up across from Draco with Ron and Hermione either side of me.

'Stick out your right hand over your broom,' called Madam Hooch at the front, 'and say "Up"!'

'UP' everyone shouted.

My broom jumped into my hand immediately and it was the only one that did. This earned impressed looks from my fellow Gryffindors and jealous looks from most of the Slytherins. Draco ended up being the second person to get the broom into his hand on his second go. He looked over at me and our eyes met. He smiled slightly and I couldn't help but return it. For some reason, there was a part of me that couldn't help but like Draco, regardless of the fact that I hated him. My feelings were mixed and continuously contradicting each other. A few more people soon joined Draco and I, which Hermione Granger's simply rolling over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all.

Once the vast majority of them had gotten their brooms off the ground, Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Ron was delighted when she told Draco he had been doing it wrong for years. I couldn't really care less.

'Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,' instructed Madam Hooch. 'Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three - two –'

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

'Come back, boy!' she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. I then gasped as Neville slipped off his broom - WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight. I then watched as she hurried over to Neville, her face as white as his only it was because of worry. Thankfully, Neville's wrist was only broken.

'None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing!' she said turning to the rest of us. 'If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will be out of Hogwarts before you can say "Quidditch." Come on, dear.'

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. No sooner were they out of earshot than Draco burst into laughter. Why wasn't I surprised?

'Did you see his face, the great lump?'

The other Slytherins joined in.

'Shut up, Malfoy,' snapped Parvati Patil.

Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?' said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. 'Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Parvati.'

'Look!' said Draco, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. 'It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him.'

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

'Give that here, Malfoy.' I said quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Draco smiled nastily.

'I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?'

'Give it here!' I yelled angrily, but Draco had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off.

I knew he hadn't been lying. He was actually a decent flyer and he sat there, hovering, level with the topmost branches of an oak. It was then he called, 'Come and get it, Potter!'

I stood there glaring at him before I went and grabbed my own broom. I was not going to let him do anything to Neville's Remembrall.

'No!' Hermione shouted walking over to me. 'Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble.'

'No you won't. She said only the person riding it.' I snapped as I mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground. Up and up I soared; air rushed through my hair, and my robes whipped out behind me. I never thought that flying could be so exciting and trilling. It felt as though I was meant to fly, but I had no time to savour the feeling. I had to get the Remembrall of Draco. I turned the broomstick sharply to face Draco in mid-air. Draco looked stunned.

'Give it here,' I said my voice nearly as cold as Snape's, 'or I'll knock you off that broom!'

'Oh, yeah?' said Draco, trying to sneer, but looking worried. He could see that I was dead serious.

When Draco didn't hand it over, I reached forward and grasped his broom tightly with both hands while my legs gripped my broom. Draco's eyes went wide.

'You going to give it to me now?' I asked with a hint of a threat in my voice.

'Catch it if you can, then!' he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

I saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. Following my instincts, I leaned forward and pointed the broom handle down - next second I was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball - wind whistled in my ears, mingled with the screams of people

watching - I stretched out my hand - a foot from the ground I caught it, just in time to pull the broom straight, before gracefully landing on the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in my hand.

'HARRY POTTER!'

Upon hearing these words, my heart sank faster than I had just dived. I slowly turned to face the furious Professor McGonagall, who was running toward us.

'Never - in all my time at Hogwarts –' Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, '- how dare you - might have broken your neck –'

'It wasn't his fault, Professor –'

'Be quiet, Miss Patil.'

'But Malfoy –'

'That's enough, Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.'

I caught sight of Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as I numbly followed Professor McGonagall back towards the castle. I was going to be expelled, I just knew it. I wanted to say something to defend myself, but there seemed to be something wrong with my voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at me, but I noticed that she seemed to be trembling. I bit the bottom of my lip and hung my head. I hadn't even lasted a month. I must have made a new record for the shortest enrolment ever. However, what worried me most is how the Dursleys would react when I arrived back on their doorstep. I imagined that they would be furious, but then…maybe I didn't have to return to them. Maybe I could convince Dumbledore to allow me to live with Hagrid. I'm sure Hagrid wouldn't mind. Maybe I could help Hagrid with his game keeping duties while watch my friends become wizards without me.

I followed McGonagall up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside. She then wrenched open doors and marched along the corridors before stopping outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

'Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?'

Wood? I thought, utterly bewildered as Professor Flitwick answered her and moments later a burly fifth-year boy who came out of the classroom looking confused.

'Follow me, you two,' said Professor McGonagall, and we marched on up the corridor, Wood looked at me curiously.

'In here.'

Professor McGonagall pointed us into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

'Out, Peeves!' she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the confused Wood and the nervous me.

'Ha - Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker.'

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight, while I got even more confused. What did she mean that she had found him a seeker?

'Are you serious, Professor?'

'Absolutely,' said Professor McGonagall crisply. 'She's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?'

I nodded silently. I didn't have a clue what was going on, but I didn't seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to me legs. No one noticed McGonagall calling me a she.

'He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive,' Professor McGonagall told Wood. 'Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it.'

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

'Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?' he asked excitedly.

'Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team,' Professor McGonagall explained.

'He's just the build for a Seeker, too,' said Wood, now walking around me and staring at me. 'Light - speedy - we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor - a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say.'

'I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks...'

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry.

'I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you.'

Then she suddenly smiled and she looked as though she was very proud of me.

'Your father would have been proud,' she said. 'He was an excellent Quidditch player himself.'

'Really?' I said becoming very interested. So McGonagall knew my father.

'Really,' she said with a small sad laugh and tears seemed to form in her eyes. 'You may go.'

I left with Wood and I realised that McGonagall must have been very close to my father for her to act that way.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

'You're joking.'

It was dinnertime and I had just finished telling Ron everything that had happened when I left the grounds with McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it.

'Seeker?' he whispered. 'But first years never - you must be the youngest house player in about –'

'- a century,' I said promptly. Wood told me as we left the classroom together.

Ron was so amazed, so impressed; he just sat and gaped at me. It actually made me a little uncomfortable.

'I start training next week,' I said conversationally. 'Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret.'

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, and when they stopped me, they hurried over.

'Well done,' said George in a low voice. 'Wood told us. We're on the team too - Beaters.'

'I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year,' said Fred. 'We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us.'

'Anyway, we've got to go; Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school.'

'Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you.'

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Draco flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

'Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?'

'You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you,' I said coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl. Not that they scared me, though I couldn't understand why. They were more than double my size. I was like a stick insect and them to giant toads.

'I'd take you on anytime on my own,' said Draco, lowering him voice slightly. 'Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?'

'Of course he has,' said Ron, wheeling around while I continued to eat my dinner calmly. 'I'm his second, who's yours?'

Draco looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

'Crabbe,' he said. 'Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked.'

When Draco had gone, Ron and I looked at each other.

'What is a wizard's duel?' I asked at once. 'And what do you mean, you're my second?'

'Well, a second's there to take over if you die,' said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie, and when he caught sight of the look on my face, he added quickly, 'But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.'

'Ron, I don't even know enough magic to that!' I said which was a bit of an exaggeration. 'My talent lies in agility.'

'Then dodge and punch him in nose.' shrugged an unconcerned Ron.

'Excuse me.'

Ron and I both looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

'Can't a person eat in peace in this place?' Ron complained rudely.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to me instead.

'I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –'

'Bet you could,' Ron muttered.

'-and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you.'

'And it's really none of your business.' I said bluntly. She was really starting to annoy me.

'Good-bye,' said Ron.

Hermione's eyes narrowed and walked away with her nose in the air.

At half-past eleven, Ron and I got dressed and snuck out of our dormitory and into the common room, before silently making our way to the portrait hole. We had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them.

'I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry.'

A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown. I bit down on my tongue as I felt my temper begin to rise. I really did have a nasty temper.

'You!' said Ron furiously. 'Go back to bed!'

'I almost told your brother,' Hermione snapped, 'Percy - he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this.'

I couldn't believe anyone could be so interfering.

'Come on,' I muttered to Ron. I pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole, but Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.

'Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.'

'And you say that we only care about ourselves,' I growled as Ron told her to go away.

'All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so –'

But whatever we were, we did not find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor tower.

'Now what am I going to do?' she asked shrilly.

'That's your problem,' said Ron. 'We've got to go; we're going to be late.'

We hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with us.

'I'm coming with you,' she said.

'You are not.' snapped Ron as I groaned and closed my eyes with annoyance.

'D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up.'

'You've got some nerve –' said Ron loudly.

'Shut up, both of you!' I said sharply, finally losing my patience. 'I heard something.'

It was a sort of snuffling.

'Mrs Norris?' breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.

It wasn't Mrs Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.

'Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours; I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed.'

'Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now; the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere.'

'How's your arm?' I asked.

'Fine,' said Neville, showing them. 'Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute.'

'Good - well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later –'

'Don't leave me!' Neville panicked and scrambled to his feet. 'I don't want to stay here alone; the Bloody Baron's been past twice already.'

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.

'If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you.'

Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but I hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward.

We flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn I expected to run into Filch or Mrs Norris, but we were lucky. We sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room. Draco and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. We edged along the walls, keeping our eyes on the doors at either end of the room. I wisely took out my wand in case Draco leapt in and started at once. I wouldn't put it past his to do something like that. As the minutes crept by, I started to become impatient and worried at the same time.

'He's late, maybe he's chickened out,' Ron whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made them jump.

I quickly raised my wand before we heard someone speak. It wasn't Draco.

'Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.'

It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Horror-struck, I waved madly at the other three to follow me as quickly as possible; we scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when we heard Filch enter the trophy room.

'They're in here somewhere,' they heard him mutter, 'probably hiding.'

'This way!' I mouthed to the others and, petrified, we began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour.

As we heard Filch getting nearer, Neville let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run. Unfortunately-he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour.

So much for being quiet, I thought as the clanging and crashing of armour echoed around the corridor. I wouldn't have been surprised if it had woken up the entire castle.

'Run!' I urgently told the others, help Ron to his feet while Hermione helped Neville. Together we sprinted down the corridor, not daring to look back to see whether Filch was following - we swung around the doorpost and tore through one corridor then another. I was in the lead with no idea where we were or where we were going - we ripped through a tapestry and found ourselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which we knew was miles from the trophy room.

'I think we've lost him,' I said, before frowning slightly when I noticed the others were out of breath. Neville was bent double, wheezing and

spluttering. I shrugged it off thinking that they were all unfit and not use to running, whereas I loved to run.

'I - told -you,' Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, 'I - told - you.'

'We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower,' said Ron, 'quickly as possible.'

'Malfoy tricked you,' Hermione said to me. 'You realise that, don't you? He was never going to meet you - Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.'

I knew that she was probably right, but I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of knowing it.

'Let's go. Quietly,' I said, leading the way once more.

Sadly, these things are never that simple. We hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of us. It was Peeves. He caught sight of us and gave a squeal of delight.

'Shut up, Peeves - please - you'll get us thrown out.'

Peeves cackled.

'Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty.'

'Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please.' I begged giving him what I hoped was a charming smile.

'Should tell Filch, I should,' said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. 'It's for your own good, you know.'

'Get out of the way,' snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves. That was a big mistake.

'STUDENTS OUT OF BED!' Peeves bellowed, 'STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!'

Ducking under Peeves, we ran for our lives, right to the end of the corridor where we slammed into a locked door.

'This is it!' Ron moaned, as we pushed helplessly at the door, 'We're done for! This is the end!' We could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves' shouts.

'Oh, move over,' Hermione snarled. She grabbed my wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, 'Alohomora!'

The lock clicked and the door swung open – we immediately piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed our ears against it, listening. Our hearts beating painfully.

'Which way did they go, Peeves?' We heard Filch say. 'Quick, tell me.'

'Say "please".'

'Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?'

'Shan't say nothing if you don't say please,' said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

'All right -please.'

'NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!' And we heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

'He thinks this door is locked,' I whispered while wondering why Peeves didn't give us away. 'I think we'll be okay - get off, Neville!' For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of my jacket for the last minute. 'What?'

I turned around impatiently – I seemed to have very little patience tonight - and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, I was sure we'd walked into a nightmare - this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. We weren't in a room, as we had supposed. We were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor and we now knew why it was forbidden. We stood frozen, looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. A Cerberus.

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and I knew that the only reason we weren't already dead was that our sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant. I carefully groped for the doorknob - between Filch and death, I'd take Filch every time. When I found the doorknob, I turned it, opening the door and pushing the others out ahead of me, before slamming it shut. We then ran like the wind all the way back to the Gryffindor common room. Thankfully, Filch was nowhere to be seen and the Fat Lady was back in her portrait.

'Where on earth have you all been?' she asked, looking at their flushed, sweaty faces.

'Never mind that - pig snout, pig snout,' I said, looking worriedly over my shoulder as the others panted around me. They seriously needed to exercise more.

The Fat Lady looked at us suspiciously, but she nonetheless swung forward. Together we scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs. It was a while before any of us said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.

'What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?' Ron demanded finally. 'If any dog needs exercise, that one does.'

Hermione had got both her breath and, unfortunately, her bad temper back again.

'You don't use your eyes, do you?' she snapped. 'Didn't you see what it was standing on.'

'The floor.' I said sarcastically with a hint of anger. 'I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads and getting uses out of there since you were all just standing there!'

'No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something.' Hermione snapped back, choosing to ignore my last comment.

She stood up, glaring at them.

'I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed.'

Ron stared after her, his mouth open.

'No, we don't mind,' he said. 'You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?'

'One thinks for sure, she definitely has her priorities wrong.' I grumbled as Ron, Neville and I headed to the boys dormitories.

However, Hermione had given me something else to think about as I climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something... What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide - except perhaps Hogwarts. It looked as though I had just discovered where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was now being kept.

* * *

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><strong>Written:<strong> 25 February 2012  
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	3. Halloween and Quidditch

**CHAPTER THREE: HALLOWEEN AND QUIDDITCH**

I couldn't help but laugh the next morning at Draco's expression when he saw that Ron and I were still at Hogwarts, looking tired but cheerful. Both Ron and I thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and we were quite keen to have another one, though I was a little worried about what happened last night. Through all the excitement, I had one of my tremors, and nearly turned into a female. Thankfully I was able to control it and suttered to think of what would have happened if the others had seen what a weirdo I was.

Anyway, I ended up filling Ron in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and we spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

'It's either really valuable or really dangerous,' said Ron.

'Or both,' I said.

Sadly, all we knew was that the object was roughly two inches long, hence didn't have much of a chance guessing what it might be. Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again. Hermione was now refusing to speak to Ron and me, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that we saw this as an added bonus. All we really wanted now was a way of getting back at Draco, and to our great delight, we got the option a week later when the owl post arrived.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. I took one glance at it and automatically could tell that it was a broomstick. I had little interest in it after that so I went back to my breakfast, only to jump when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of me, knocking my bacon to the floor. They had barely fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

After my initial shock had past, I ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

_DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE._

_It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session._

_Professor McGonagall_

I had so much difficulty hiding my excitement as I handed the note to Ron to read.

'A Nimbus Two Thousand!' Ron moaned enviously. 'I've never even touched one.'

They left the hall quickly –ignoring the curious looks they were receiving -, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Draco seized the package from me and felt it.

'That's a broomstick,' he said, throwing it back to me with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. 'You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them.'

Ron couldn't resist it.

'It's not any old broomstick,' he said, 'it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?' Ron grinned at me. 'Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus.'

'What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle,' Draco snapped back. 'I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig.'

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

'Not arguing, I hope, boys?' he squeaked.

'Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor,' said Draco quickly.

'Yes, yes, that's right,' said Professor Flitwick, beaming at me and I smiled back. 'Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?'

'A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir.' I tried so hard not to laugh at the look of horror on Draco's face. 'And it's really thanks to Draco here that I've got it.' I couldn't help adding, getting my revenge for him not showing up for the duel.

I then headed up stairs with Ron, smothering our laughter at Draco's obvious rage and slight confusion.

'Well, it's true,' I chortled as we reached the top of the marble staircase. 'If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team...'

'So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?' came an angry voice from just behind us. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in my hand.

'I thought you weren't speaking to us?' I said, ignoring her question.

'Yes, don't stop now,' said Ron, 'it's doing us so much good.'

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air while Ron and I continued on our way.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

After a hurried dinner, Ron and I ran back to the common room and unwrapped the parcel the Nimbus was in. Then, as seven o'clock drew nearer, I left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. The Quidditch field was surrounded by a huge stadium with hundreds of seats that were raised in the stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end which were at least fifty feet high.

I stood there waiting impatiently for Wood, so I ended up mounting my new broom and kicked off from the ground hard. I could not explain the feeling that I was feelings as I gracefully flew around the stadium. It was like being free. I vaguely wondered if that was how owls and other birds felt.

'Hey, Potter, come down!'

Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. I landed lightly next to him.

'Very nice,' said Wood, his eyes glinting. 'I see what McGonagall meant... you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week.'

He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

'Right,' said Wood. 'Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers.' Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball. 'This ball's called the Quaffle. The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?'

'The Chasers goal is to get the Quaffle to the opposite goal posts to score ten points.' I said. Maybe this was the wizarding version of basketball.

'Good. Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper -I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring.'

'That's easy enough to remember.' I said as my eyes fell upon two identical jet black balls that slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. They looked like they were trying to escape.

'I'll show you now,' said Wood. 'Take this.'

He handed me a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat. I stared at it blankly before looking at him for an explanation.

'I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do,' Wood said indicating to the two jet black balls. He then bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at my face. Startled, I swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking my nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air. I then watched warily as it zoomed around ours heads before it shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

'See?' Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. 'The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team - the Weasley twins are ours - it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So - think you've got all that?'

I nodded, before asking nervously, 'Bludgers haven't ever killed anyone, have they?'

'Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the

Bludgers –'

'- unless they crack my head open.'

'Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers – I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves.'

Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings. It was beautiful.

'This,' said Wood, 'is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages - I think the record is three months; they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep. Well, that's it – any questions?'

I shook my head. I all seemed straightforward to me and I knew that I would understand it more once I was actually playing the game.

I then spent the rest of the night catching the ordinary golf balls that Wood threw as hard as he could in different directions. I caught them and Wood was positively delighted.

'That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year,' said Wood happily as we plodded back up to the castle. 'I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons.'

I blushed slightly and hoped that I wouldn't let him down.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

Two months had past and I felt more at home at Hogwarts than I ever did at Privet Drive.

On Halloween morning everyone woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something we had all been dying to try since we had seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Though I never knew what the toad was doing there in the first place.

Ten minutes into the lesson, Professor Flitwick put us into pairs to practice. I was partnered with Seamus, while Ron was paired with Hermione. Seamus and I spent a good part of the lesson trying to figure out who was angrier about this. In the end, I decided that Ron more furious than Hermione when she tried to help him. At least I think that's what she was trying to do.

'Wingardium Leviosa!' Ron shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

'You're saying it wrong,' I heard Hermione snap. 'It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long.'

'You do it, then, if you're so clever,' Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, 'Wingardium Leviosa!'

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

'Oh, well done!' cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. 'Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!'

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

'It's no wonder no one can stand her,' he said Dean, Seamus, Neville and I as we headed to our next class. 'She's a nightmare, honestly.'

Someone knocked into me as they hurried past. It was Hermione and I was startled to see that she was in tears.

'I think she heard you.'

'So?' said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable as did the other boys. 'She must've noticed she's got no friends.'

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Ron and I overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment he entered the Great Hall all thoughts about Hermione slipped his mind. However, I still felt bad and wasn't able to get Hermione off my mind. It turned out to be a good thing in the end as Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face.

Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, 'Troll - in the dungeons - thought you ought to know.'

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

While the students around me began to scream, I couldn't help think about how pathetic our Defence teacher was and as I looked at Snape, I could tell that he was thinking something along the same lines as he looked down at Quirrell.

It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

'Prefects,' he rumbled, 'lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!'

Percy was in his element, which surprised no one.

'Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!'

'How could a troll get in?' I asked as we climbed the stairs following the other first year Gryffindors..

'Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid,' said Ron. 'Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke.'

'I somehow doubt even Peeves would do something like that!' I said as we passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. It was then I suddenly grabbed Ron's arm. 'Hermione.'

'What about her?'

'She doesn't know about the troll.'

Ron bit his lip.

'Oh, all right,' he snapped. 'But Percy'd better not see us.'

Ducking down, we successfully joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, before we slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. We had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

'Percy!' hissed Ron, pulling me behind a large stone griffin.

Peering around it, however, we saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

'What's he doing?' I whispered to the equally perplexed Ron. 'Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?'

'Search me.'

Quietly as possible, we crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

'He's heading for the third floor,' I said suspiciously, but Ron held up his hand.

'Can you smell something?'

I glanced at him before sniffing the air and a foul stench reached my nostrils. It was a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean. It smelt that bad that I could taste it. And then we heard it - a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed towards the end of a passage to the left. Something huge was moving toward us. We shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long. It looked like an unintelligent creature to me.

The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.

'Oh no,' I said, eyes widening.

'What?' whispered Ron, looking at me thoroughly concerned.

'Isn't that the girl's bathroom?'

Ron's eyes then widened and together we bolted to the girl's bathroom as a loud scream sounded. Hermione's scream.

I pulled the door open and we ran inside. Inside we found Hermione shrinking against the opposite wall, looking as though she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

'Confuse it!' I yelled to Ron as I seizing a tap and threw it as hard as I could against the wall.

The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes then fell upon me. It hesitated, then made for me instead, lifting its club as it went.

'Oi, pea-brain!' yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it.

The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving me time to run around it.

'Come on, run!' I yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

It was at that moment I felt one of my tremors begin, but it was different to the other times. This time, my body wanted to change and it craved to rip the trolls throat out for trying to harm my friends. I tried to fight it, but in the end, I just went with part of it. I ran at the troll, my eyes full of anger and hate, and jumped, fastening my arms around the troll's neck for behind. Unfortunately for the troll, I had my wand in my hand as I jumped, which resulted in it being plunged up its nose.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, while I clung on for dear life; knowing that any second, the troll was going to rip me off and use its club to kill me. And I was right to. Having just realised that I was on its back, it grabbed one of my legs, ripped me off its back and threw me to the other end of the bathroom where I painfully hit the wall, letting out a cry of pain.

Hermione sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand - not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: 'Wingardium Leviosa!'

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over - and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

I got painfully to my feet and Ron hurried over to me.

'Are you okay?' His face was sick with worry.

'It'd take more than a troll to finish me off.' I said with a small laugh. I then went over to the unconscious troll to retrieve my wand. No one ever thought that a wand could be used like that, I bet.

'Is it - dead?' Hermione asked as she got to her feet. She was trembling all over.

'Don't think so,' I replied. 'I think it's just been knocked out.'

I bent down and pulled my wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue.

'Delightful. Just what I've always wanted on my wand.'

I wiped it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made Ron, Hermione and I look up. None of us had realised what a racket we had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll and fainted once more, while Snape bent over the troll. McGonagall, however, was looking at Ron and I. I had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white.

'What on earth were you thinking of?' yelled McGonagall, looking in particularly at me. Her eyes were full of angry, relief and fear. 'You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?'

Snape looked up from the troll and gave me a piercing look. He looked unusually pale.

I looked down at the floor, not knowing how to answer her question. Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

'Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me.'

'Miss Granger!'

'I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them.'

Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher? I felt my jaw drop.

'If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived.'

'Well - in that case...' said McGonagall, staring at the three of them, 'Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?'

Hermione hung her head. I was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had suddenly shown me that he loved and cared for me. It was something that you'd never expect to happen.

'Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this,' said McGonagall. 'I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses.'

Hermione left and McGonagall turned to Ron and me.

'Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll.' She said, but she seemed to be looking at me curiously, as was Snape. 'You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go.'

Together we hurried out of the bathroom and I swore I heard Snape say, 'I think the time is coming to tell her.'

'That is for your father to decide,' replied McGonagall.

Ron and I didn't speak at all until we had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.

'We should have gotten more than ten points,' Ron grumbled.

'Five, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's.'

'Good of her to get us out of trouble like that,' Ron admitted. 'Mind you, we did save her.'

'She might not have needed saving if you hadn't insulted her.' I reminded him. 'What do think Snape meant about his comment as we left the bathroom.

'No idea, but it must have something to do with Hermione.' shrugged an unconcerned Ron. 'Anyway, that was amazing the way you jumped on the troll's back like that! What made you do that?'

'I don't know.' I answered truthfully. 'I just felt an urge to do it when I saw you in danger.'

'Well, whatever made you do it, probably saved our lives. Are you still sore from where you hit the wall?'

'I little. I'm sure I'll be fine in a few days' time. Though I'm not looking forward to the bruise I'm likely to have.'

We had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

'Pig snout,' we said and entered.

The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for us. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of us looking at each other, we all said 'Thanks,' and hurried off to get plates. But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became our best friend. I guess there are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

When November finally came, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaver skin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, I would be playing in my first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, we would move up into second place in the house championship. Hardly anyone had seen me since Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, I should be kept secret. However, keeping a secret at Hogwarts was not always possible. So it came as no surprise when the news that I was playing Seeker had somehow leaked out.

This meant that I continuously had people coming up to me saying that I would be great or saying that they would have a mattress at the ready encase I fell. I actually didn't know what was worse, though the mattress was pretty close to the top. As the match came closer, I even had most of my teacher's wish me luck, but what surprised me most was when Snape, yes, Snape wished me luck on the morning of the game when Ron and Hermione were trying to get me to eat some breakfast.

'You've got to eat some breakfast.'

'I don't want anything.'

'Just a bit of toast,' wheedled Hermione.

'I'm not hungry. Besides, even if I did eat something, I'd probably end up bring it back up.'

'Harry, you need your strength,' Seamus Finnigan chimed in. 'Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team.'

'Thanks, Seamus,' I said as piled tomato sauce on his sausages.

It was then that Snape stopped behind me.

'Good luck today, Potter.' he said calmly. 'But seeing as you have proved yourself against a troll, a little game of Quidditch should prove easy work for you. Even if you are against Slytherin.' He then gave something that could have been a smile, before limping off.

'That was kind of him.' I said, wondering if that exchange had actually happened.

'I wonder what's wrong with his leg.' said Hermione as she watched him take his seat to the right of Dumbledore's throne like seat.

'Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him,' said Ron with an uncaring shrug.

'I think it's because of that Cerberus.' I said, lowering my voice so only Ron and Hermione could hear me.

'That what?'

'The three-headed dog.' Hermione said, before looking back at me. 'What makes you say that, Harry?'

'Do you think it's odd that Snape would be on the third floor when the rest of the teachers were at the dungeons? What if he let the troll in as a diversion to steal what the dog is guarding?'

Hermione's eyes were wide.

'No - he wouldn't,' she said. 'I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe.'

'Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something,' snapped Ron. 'I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?'

'Hold on you two. You don't have enough evidence to suggest that Snape was up to something.' Hermione said reasonably. 'Maybe he was heading off to check something or –'

'Then why is he limping? Do you think he just fell down the stairs or something?' I shot back.

'Maybe. He's a human like you and me.'

Ron suddenly snorted.

'That would be a funny sight! Snape falling down some stairs!'

Hermione and I just shock our heads.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean up in the top row. As a surprise for me, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colours.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, myself and the rest of the team were changing into our scarlet Quidditch robes. Once changed, Wood cleared his throat for silence.

'Okay, men,' he said.

'And women,' said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

'And women,' Wood agreed. 'This is it.'

'The big one,' said Fred.

'The one we've all been waiting for,' said George.

'We know Oliver's speech by heart,' Fred told me as I tried not to laugh, 'we were on the team last year.'

'Shut up, you two,' said Wood. 'This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it.'

He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."

'Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you.'

I ended up following Fred and George out of the locker room and walked onto the field to loud cheers, whilst fighting the urge to vomit.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

'Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you,' she said, once they were all gathered around her.

I somehow got the impression that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year

'Mount your brooms, please.'

I clambered onto my Nimbus Two Thousand and took a deep breath.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle and fifteen brooms immediately rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

'And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –'

'JORDAN!'

'Sorry, Professor.'

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by McGonagall.

'And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin

Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle - that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goal posts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!'

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

'Budge up there, move along.'

'Hagrid!'

Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

'Bin watchin' from me hut,' said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, 'But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?'

'Nope,' said Ron. 'Harry hasn't had much to do yet.'

'Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin',' said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was me.

Way up above them all, I was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of Wood's game plan. He wanted me to stay away from all the other players to try and prevent any intentional attacks.

'Slytherin in possession,' Lee Jordan was saying, 'Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?'

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

I saw it. In a great rush of excitement I dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck we hurtled toward the Snitch - all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in mid-air to watch. Why, I do not know. However, I was faster than Higgs - I could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead - - I put on an extra spurt of speed - WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below - Marcus Flint had blocked me on purpose, and my broom spun off course, with me holding on for dear life.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

'So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating –'

'Jordan!' growled McGonagall, who had gone a little pale.

'I mean, after that open and revolting foul –'

'Jordan, I'm warning you –'

'All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession.'

Annoyed with what Flint had just done, I flew off in search for the snitch. It was as I dodged a Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past my head that it happened. My broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch and for a split second, I thought I was going to fall. As a result, I gripped the broom tightly with both hands and knees. And it happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck me off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Slightly frightened, I tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal posts to talk to Wood only to realise that I my broom was completely out of my control. I couldn't turn it. I couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated me. It took all my effort to try and remain calm. I helplessly looked to see if one of my team members had noticed and were coming to help me, but so far no one seemed to have noticed. And I knew it to be true because Lee was still commentating.

'Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherins score - A no...'

The Slytherins were cheering and still no one seemed to have noticed that my broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying me slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went. I couldn't stop shaking. I had never been so scared or helpless.

'Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing,' Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. 'If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can't have...'

Suddenly, people were pointing up at me all over the stands. My broom had started to roll over and over, with me only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. My broom had given a wild jerk and I swung off it. I was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

'Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?' Seamus whispered.

'Can't have,' Hagrid said, his voice shaking. 'Nothing can interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic - no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand.'

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at me, she started looking frantically at the crowd. Her eyes past over the pale, shakened and scared McGonagall and landed on the person sitting next to her.

'What are you doing?' moaned Ron, grey-faced.

'I knew it,' Hermione gasped, 'Snape - look.'

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape had his eyes fixed on me and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

'He's doing something - jinxing the broom,' said Hermione.

'What should we do?'

'Leave it to me.'

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on me. My broom was now vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for me to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull me safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good - every time they got near me, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath me, obviously hoping to catch me if I fell. I was actually in half a mind to let go and let them catch me, but the thought of them missing me hung strongly in my mind.

Amidst all the panic, Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

'Come on, Hermione,' Ron muttered desperately.

Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well- chosen words. Bright orange flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes. She then left before anyone noticed her presence.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realise that he was on fire and when he did, he gave a yelp and began trying to put them out, accidently hitting the professor behind him, who feel backwards, knocking over Quirrell.

Hermione's quick thinking was enough. Up in the air, I was suddenly able to clamber back on to my broom. The moment I was one my broom, I went speeding toward the ground, with a worried Fred and George coming after me. Once safely on the ground the crowd watched as I clap my hand to my mouth as though I was about to be sick and then something gold fell into my hand.

'Harry! Are you okay?' asked Fred, landing beside me.

'I'll live.' I said, though I was still shaking. 'I caught the snitch, by the way.'

'I don't think anyone's caught it like that before!' laughed George before telling everyone that I had caught the snitch.

'He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it,' Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference - I hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results - Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. However, I heard none of this for I was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron and Hermione.

'It was Snape,' Ron was explaining, 'Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you.'

'Rubbish,' said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. 'Why would Snape do somethin' like that?'

Ron, Hermione and I looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. I decided on the truth.

'I found out something about him,' I told Hagrid. 'He tried to get past that Cerberus on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding.'

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

'How do you know about Fluffy?' he said.

'Fluffy?'

'Yeah - he's mine - bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year - I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –'

'Yes?'

'Now, don't ask me anymore,' said Hagrid gruffly. 'That's top secret, that is.'

'But Snape's trying to steal it.'

'Rubbish,' said Hagrid again. 'Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort.'

'So why did he just try and kill Harry?' cried Hermione. The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape. 'I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!'

'I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!' said Hagrid hotly. 'I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel –'

Hagrid suddenly broke off looked furious with himself as a knowing smile appeared on my face. Ron, Hermione and I had some research to do.

* * *

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><strong>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 25 February 2012  
><strong>Updated:<br>Beta:**

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	4. Discoveries Towards the Truth

**CHAPTER FOUR: DISCOVERIES TOWARDS THE TRUTH**

Life at Hogwarts seemed to fly by. Before I knew it, Christmas holidays had arrived. This meant that Hogwarts was practically empty. However, I was really looking forward to Christmas for it would be my first one Dursley free. McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and I signed up at once. To my delight, the Weasleys were staying too since Mr and Mrs Weasley were going to Romania to visit their second oldest son, Charlie.

Up until the Christmas holidays, Ron, Hermione and I spent every spare moment searching the library for information on Nicolas Flamel, but had had not luck. This was frustrating, especially since I knew that I had read his name somewhere before, but I couldn't remember where. We even tried to coax it out of Hagrid for even a tiny hint, but he surprisingly wouldn't budge. Then, when the holidays were about to begin, Hermione left after making Ron and I promise that we would continue to look for Flamel. Somehow, I got the feeling that Ron and I would never end up doing as we promised; and I was right.

Once the holidays had started, Ron and I were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. We had the dormitory to ourselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so we were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. We sat by the fire eating anything we could spear on a toasting fork - bread, English muffins, and marshmallows - and we plotting ways of getting Draco expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work. Ron also started teaching me wizard chess. I was surprised to discover that it was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned it had once belonged to someone else in his family - in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

I played with chessmen Seamus had lent me, and they didn't trust me at all. Not that I could blame them. I was dreadful at chess, Muggle or otherwise. I didn't have the patience to sit there and plan a route of attack. Instead I just told them to go to the first spot that came to mind after them confusing me by shouting out different bits of advice. So it was no surprise when Ron won every game we played. However, the more we played, the better I got… but that didn't stop me sucking at the game still. It had no excitement for me compared to exploding snap.

On Christmas Eve, I went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When I woke early in the morning, however, the first thing I saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of my bed. I had to pinch myself.

'Merry Christmas,' said Ron sleepily as I scrambled out of bed and pulled on my dressing gown.

'You, too,' I said, still looking at the presents. 'Will you look at this? I've got some presents!'

'What did you expect, turnips?' said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than mine. I hadn't told Ron that I never got many presents from the Dursleys. If you could call Uncle Vernon's old yellow socks a present or a coat hanger.

I picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was _To Harry, from Hagrid_. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. I blew it - it sounded a bit like an owl. A second, very small parcel contained a note.

_We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia_.

Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

'That's friendly,' I said. It was the best present yet.

Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence.

'Weird!' he said, 'What a shape! This is money?'

'You can keep it.' I laugh at how pleased Ron was. 'Hagrid and my aunt and uncle - so who sent these?'

'I think I know who that one's from,' said Ron, turning a bit red and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. 'My mum. I told her you didn't expect any presents and - oh, no,' he groaned as I tore open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge. 'She's made you a Weasley sweater. Every year she makes us a sweater,' Ron unwrapped his own, 'and mine's always maroon.'

'That's really nice of her,' I said, trying the fudge, which was delicious. I was very touched that she had gone to all that trouble just for me. A kid that she barely even knew.

My next present also contained candy - a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione. Then came the big mystery. I had three presents with no signature telling me who they were from. The first present contained my very own _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and more sweets. The second was some brand new clothes that actually fitted me. Then there was the last one. I picked it up and felt it. It was very light compared to my other presents. I unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery grey went slithering to the floor where it laid in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.

'Something wrong?' I asked, picking up the silvery cloth. . It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

'I've heard of those,' he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavour Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. 'If that's what I think it is - they're really rare, and really valuable.'

'What is it?'

'It's an invisibility cloak,' said Ron, a look of awe on his face. 'I'm sure it is - try it on.'

Feeling a bit foolish, I threw the cloak around my shoulders and Ron gave a yell, starling me slightly.

'It is! Look down!'

I did as he said and looked down at my feet, but they were gone. Upon seeing this, I dashed to a nearby mirror and sure enough, my body completely invisible leaving only my head floating in mid-air. I pulled the cloak over my head and me reflection vanished completely.

'There's a note!' said Ron suddenly. 'A note fell out of it!'

I quickly pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing I had never seen before were the following words: _Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you. _There was no signature.

I stared at the note while Ron was admiring the cloak.

'I'd give anything for one of these,' he said. 'Anything. What's the matter?'

'Nothing.'

I felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak along with the other gifts? Had it really once belonged to my father? Before I could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. I stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight. He didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet. However, I got the feeling that Fred and George had seen what I had done, even if they didn't say anything about it.

'Merry Christmas!'

'Hey, look - Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!'

Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G. The only thing was, Fred was wearing the G and George was wearing the F. AS if people didn't have a hard enough time telling them apart as it was.

'Harry's is better than ours, though,' said Fred, holding up my sweater. 'She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family.'

'Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?' George demanded. 'Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm.'

'I hate maroon,' Ron moaned half-heartedly as he pulled it over his head.

'You haven't got a letter on yours,' George observed. 'I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and Forge.'

I couldn't help but laugh at that comment. Fred winked at me as Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which George seized.

'P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one.'

'I - don't – want,' said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

'And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either,' said George. 'Christmas is a time for family.'

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater. I sadly looked away. It was times like these that I had a loving family with little brothers or sisters. But as I thought about it, I sort of did have a brothers and a sister. Wasn't Fred, George and Ron like older brothers to me? And wasn't Hermione close enough to be an older sister? Or at least, they were slowly starting to feel that way, though I wasn't sure if I would be able to tell them my biggest secret yet, I didn't want them thinking that I was weird and abandon me.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

I had never in all my life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favours were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. I pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. It then took Fred along time to stop laughing at my reaction to it. I nearly ended up falling off my chair and would have too if Percy hadn't caught me. I swear I nearly wet myself with fright. That was the last thing I had expected it to do.

Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him and McGonagall.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. I made extra sure to stab my pudding carefully after that.

During dinner, I enjoyed watching the teachers being so care free. I watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine. I watched as Dumbledore and McGonagall sat there laughing and was shocked when Dumbledore kissed McGonagall on the finally the cheek, who giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided. However, what surprised me most was I swore I saw Snape trying not to laugh numerous times.

When I finally left the table, I was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and my very own new wizard chess set. Though after one game with it I knew that it probably wouldn't look new ever again. The white mice had disappeared and I had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs Norris's Christmas dinner.

The Weasleys and I then spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, we returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where I broke in my new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. No surprise there, though I strongly suspected that I wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help me so much.

After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, Ron and I felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge. It was actually quite entertaining for everyone, except for Percy.

It had been my best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of my mind all day: the invisibility cloak and whoever had sent it.

I sat there in the dark wondering who could have sent me the gifts and the cloak, as I listened to Ron's snores. I leaned over the side of my bed and pulled the cloak out from under it. My father's... this had been my father's. I let the material flow over my hands. It was smoother than silk and as light as air. _Use it well_, the note had said. I had to try it, now. I slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around myself. Looking down at my legs, I saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.

_Use it well._

Suddenly, I felt wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to me in this cloak. Excitement flooded through me as he stood there in the dark. I could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know. With this in mind I crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole. I didn't bother waking Ron. One, because I would have more success getting a hug from Snape than waking him and two… this was my father's and I wanted to use it by myself for the first time.

I ended up silently creeping to the library. The Restricted Section in the library to be more precise. Why did I go there of all places? Simple. I'd be able to read as long as I liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. The library was pitch-black and very eerie. I didn't bother lighting a lamp. I had always been able to see perfectly in the dark. Maybe it was because my cupboard was very dark when I didn't have the lights on. That or I'd been eating a lot of carrots.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, I began to browse the titles of each book. They didn't tell me much. Their peeling faded gold letters spelled words in languages I couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. Some books I could even hear a faint whispering was coming from them. In the end, I randomly picked a book. A large black and silver volume caught my eye. I pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on my knee, let it fall open. Bad idea. A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence - the book was screaming! I immediately snapped it shut, but unfortunately the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, ear-splitting note. To make matters worse, I then heard the sound of hurried footsteps coming towards me from the corridor outside. Panicking, I stuffed the shrieking book back on the shelf and ran for it. My feet were barely making any noise of the stone floor and I slipped past filch and sprinted up the corridor.

I eventually came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armour. I had been too preoccupied with getting away from the library; I hadn't paid any attention to where I was actually going going.

'You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library Restricted Section.'

I felt the blood drain from my face. Wherever I was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to my horror, it was Snape who replied, 'The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them.'

I stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see me, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into me - the cloak didn't stop me from being solid. I backed away silently and slipped through a door stood ajar to my left. They walked straight past, and I leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before I noticed anything about the room I had hidden in. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket - but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

Intrigued, I took off my cloak and stepped in front of it. I then had to clap his hands to my mouth to stop myself from screaming. I whirled around. My heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed - for I had seen not only myself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind me. But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, I turned slowly back to the mirror. There I was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind me, were at least ten others. I looked over my shoulder - but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?

I looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind my reflection was smiling at me and waving. I cautiously reached out a hand and felt the air behind me. If she was really there, I'd touch her, our reflections were so close together, but I felt only air - she and the others existed only in the mirror. She was a very pretty woman, I thought. She had dark red hair and her eyes – her eyes are just like mine. Bright green - exactly the same shape, but then I noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, handsome, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He I looked similar to me. It then hit me.

'Mum?' I breathed. 'Dad?'

They just looked at me, smiling.

I then began to take in the rest of my family. Next to my father was a man that looked identical to him, except he parted his hair to the opposite side. My father had a twin! And not only that. He had an older brother! Standing next to James' twin was another man who had similarities to his little brothers. I had more uncles! That then made me frown. Were these uncles still alive? And if so, did they want anything to do with me? Is that why they never contacted me and the reason I was only finding out now that I had other family? Did they hate me because I survived Voldemort's attack and not their brother?

With these depressing thoughts in mind, I turned my attention to the people standing behind them. My jaw dropped. Standing behind them was none other than McGonagall and Dumbledore. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Why were they in the mirror unless… unless they were related to me. That would explain McGonagall's behaviour towards me and why the rules were bent for me to play Quidditch and she gave me the Nimbus Two Thousand free of charge.

How long he stood there, I didn't know. The reflections did not fade and I looked and looked until a distant noise brought me back to my senses. I couldn't stay here; I had to find my way back to bed. I tore my eyes away from my mother's face, whispered, 'I'll come back,' and hurried from the room.

'You could have woken me up,' said Ron, crossly after I had just recounted my adventure to him.

'You can come tonight, I'm going back, and I want to show you the mirror.'

'I'd like to see your mom and dad,' Ron said eagerly.

'And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone.'

'You can see them any old time. Just come round my house this summer. Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Though I have to admit, Dumbledore and McGonagall being in the mirror is a big mystery. Maybe you should ask them.'

'No way.' I said immediately.

'Why not?'

'Firstly, I would have to explain how I found the mirror in the first place and secondly, don't you think that they would have told me if we were directly related? That or they don't want me to know. No. It's best if I pretend that I didn't see them in the mirror.'

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

What I feared most was that I might not be able to find the mirror room again. With Ron covered in the cloak, too, we had to walk much more slowly the next night. We tried retracing my route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

'I'm freezing,' said Ron. 'Let's forget it and go back.'

'No!' I hissed. 'I know it's here somewhere.'

We passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, I spotted the suit of armour.

'It's here - just here - yes!'

We pushed the door open. I immediately dropped the cloak from around my shoulders and ran to the mirror.

There they were. My mother and father beamed at the sight of me. If only I could see them doing that in person.

'See?' I whispered to Ron, not taking my eyes away from my father's face.

'I can't see anything.'

'Look! Look at them all... there are loads of them...'

'I can only see you.'

'Look in it properly, go on. Stand where I am.'

I stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, I couldn't see my family anymore, just Ron in his paisley pyjamas. Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

'Look at me!' he said.

'Can you see all your family standing around you?'

'No - I'm alone - but I'm different - I look older - and I'm head boy!'

'Huh?'

'I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to - and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup - I'm Quidditch captain, too.'

Ron tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at me.

'Do you think this mirror shows the future?'

'How can it? As far as I know, all my family are dead - let me have another look –'

'You had it to yourself all last night; give me a bit more time.'

'You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? It's only a piece of metal and wood. I want to see my parents.'

'Don't push me –'

A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to our discussion. We hadn't realised how loudly we had been arguing.

'Quick!'

Ron threw the cloak back over us as the luminous eyes of Mrs Norris came round the door. Ron and I stood quite still, both thinking the same thing - did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed an age, she turned and left.

'This isn't safe - she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on.'

And Ron pulled me out of the room. I reluctantly allowed him too.

'Want to play chess, Harry?' Ron asked the next morning as I stared thoughtfully in to the fire in the Gryffindor common room.

'No.'

'Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?'

'No... You go...'

'I know what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight.'

'Why not?'

'I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it - and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs Norris are all wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?'

'You sound like Hermione.'

'I'm serious, Harry, don't go.'

I ended up ignoring Ron's advised, though that wasn't a major surprise. I desperately wanted to see my parents again and I couldn't see anything wrong with that. After all, this was the first time in ten years I had seen them. The last being when I was one, but I had no memory of those times. Hence, no one was going to stop me from seeing what was unfairly taken from me.

That night I found my way more quickly than before. And there was my mother and father smiling at me again, and the rest of my family smiling down at me. I sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop me from staying here all night with me family. Nothing at all. Except -

'So - back again, Harry?'

I felt as though my insides had turned to ice. I looked behind me. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Dumbledore. I must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror I hadn't noticed him.

'I - I didn't see you, sir.'

'Strange how near-sighted being invisible can make you,' said Dumbledore, and I was relieved, get slightly confused, to see that he was smiling.

'So,' said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with me, which surprised me, 'you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.'

'I didn't know it was called that, Sir.'

'But I expect you've realised by now what it does?'

'It - well - it shows me my family –' I looked at him closely to see if he would react to what I had just said, but he didn't. He said nothing about whether we were related or not.

'And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy.'

'How did you know -?'

'I don't need a cloak to become invisible,' said Dumbledore gently. 'Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?'

I shook my head.

'Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?'

'So it shows us what we want... whatever we want...'

'Yes and no,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?'

I stood up as did Dumbledore.

'Sir - Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?'

'Obviously, you've just done so,' Dumbledore smiled. 'You may ask me one more thing, however.'

'What do you see when you look in the mirror?'

'I see your father alive and well.' Dumbledore said quietly. His expression was suddenly sad.

'Why?'

'Harry, there is no use beating about the bush for the answer you seek.' Dumbledore said with a small chuckle. All his boys use to do that a first to, until they mastered the technique of subtlety weeding what they wanted out of people. 'You are wondering why you see myself and Professor McGonagall in the mirror, don't you?'

'Yes.' I didn't see any point in denying it. 'So we are related?'

'Yes. I'm your father's father, hence your grandfather. Professor McGonagall is your grandfather, my wife.'

My eyes widened. Dumbledore and McGonagall were my grandparents. I couldn't believe it. I was stunned. I was also worried and confused. So I asked Dumbledore, my grandfather, another question.

'Why didn't you ever contact me?' I asked quietly. 'Didn't you want me? Do you hate me because I survived and Dad died? Am I just a waste of space?' I was having trouble stopping the tears that had begun to fall. Didn't any of my family love me? Were they all like the Dursleys?

'No, that's not it at all, Harry!' Grandfather said gently, pulling me into a loving embrace as I began to cry. 'Your grandmother and I love you very much! It pained us to stay out of your life! We wanted very much to raise you, but we knew it would be safer for you with your mum's sister and husband.'

'Why?'

'You were Voldemort's downfall. Hence, one of his followers may have been seeking revenge. And we knew that the Muggle world would be the last place they would ever search for you.'

'Were you ever going to tell?'

'We were planning on telling you at the end of the year.' admitted Grandfather, lightly pulling me away and wiping away my tears. 'Come. I'll walk you back to your dormitory.'

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

As my grandfather wanted, I didn't go looking for the Mirror again, nor did I reveal my true heritage to Ron. Grandfather had asked that our family remained secret for my own safety and other reasons of which he did not share. Thankfully, Ron never asked about Grandfather and Grandmother being in the mirror. In all honesty, I knew that he had forgotten all about them.

Hermione, who came back the day before term started, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of me being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!"), and disappointment that I hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was. We had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though I positive that I had read the name somewhere.

Once term had started, we were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during our breaks. I had even less time than the others, because Quidditch practice had started again. Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. I often wondered if anything would. The Weasley twins complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but I was secretly on Wood's side. If we won our next match, against Hufflepuff, we would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.

'Will you stop messing around!' he yelled. 'That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!

George Weasley really did fall off his broom at these words. Thankfully, the ground was close at hand and he wasn't hurt.

'Snape's refereeing?' he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. 'When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin.'

The rest of us then landed next to George to complain, too.

'It's not my fault,' said Wood. 'We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us.'

Which was all very well, I thought, but I had another reason for not wanting Snape near me while I was playing Quidditch...

The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but I headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where I found Ron and Hermione playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Ron and I thought was very good for her.

'Don't talk to me for a moment,' said Ron when I sat down next to him, 'I need to concen –' He caught sight of my worried face. 'What's the matter with you? You look terrible.'

Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, I told the others about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

'Don't play,' said Hermione at once.

'Say you're ill,' said Ron.

'Pretend to break your leg,' Hermione suggested.

'Really break your leg,' said Ron.

'I can't,' I said. 'There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all. Besides, Madam Pomfrey would fix my leg in a heartbeat.'

At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what we recognised at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower.

Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione – and myself -, who leapt up and performed the counter curse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

'What happened?' Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with us.

'Malfoy,' said Neville shakily. 'I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on.'

'Go to Professor McGonagall!' Hermione urged Neville. 'Report him!'

Neville shook his head.

'I don't want more trouble,' he mumbled.

'You've got to stand up to him, Neville!' said Ron. 'He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier.'

'There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that,' Neville choked out.

I felt in the pocket of my robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box my Uncle Severus had given me for Christmas. On the way back to the Gryffindor common room, Grandfather had told me that it was Uncle Severus who had given me the book and sweets, while the cloak and clothes were from him and Grandmother.

'You're worth twelve of Malfoy,' I said, handing him the chocolate frog. 'The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin.'

Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.

'Besides, everyone is brave in their own way and everyone is scared of something.'

'Thanks, Harry... I think I'll go to bed... D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?'

As Neville walked away, I looked at the Famous Wizard card.

'Gr -Dumbledore again,' I said, hoping Ron and Hermione hadn't noticed my slight slip up. 'He was the first one I ever-'

I gasped and stared at the back of the card. Then I looked up at the concerned Ron and Hermione.

'I've found him!' I whispered. 'I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: "Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel"!'

Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework.

'Stay there!' she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Ron and I barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.

'I never thought to look in here!' she whispered excitedly. 'I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading.'

'Light?' said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for.

'I knew it! I knew it!'

'Are we allowed to speak yet?' said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him. Not that like that was surprising.

'Nicolas Flamel,' she whispered dramatically, 'is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!'

This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected.

'The what?' Ron and I asked in unison.

'Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look - read that, there.'

She pushed the book toward them, and Harry and Ron read: _The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday, last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)._

'See?' said Hermione, when Ron and I had finished. 'The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!'

'A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!' I said. 'No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it.'

'And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry,' said Ron. 'He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?'

'You can say that again.' I snorted, before coming serious once more. 'I'm going to play in the upcoming game against Hufflepuff. If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win.'

'Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field,' said Hermione.

As the match drew nearer, however, I became more and more nervous, regardless of what I kept telling Ron and Hermione. The rest of the team weren't too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was wonderful, no one had done it for seven years, but would we be allowed to, with such a biased referee? I didn't know whether I was imagining it or not, but I seemed to keep running into Snape wherever I went. At times, I even wondered whether Snape was following me, trying to catch me on my own. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to me. Well, more than usual. Could Snape possibly know my friends and I had found out about the Philosopher's Stone? I didn't see how he could - yet I got the feeling that Snape could read minds.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

I knew that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they'd ever see me alive again when they wished me good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon. This wasn't what you'd call comforting. In fact, it made me even more nervous. As a result, hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as I pulled on my Quidditch robes and picked up my Nimbus Two Thousand, before Wood took me aside.

'Don't want to pressure you, Harry, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favour Hufflepuff too much.'

'The whole school's out there!' said Fred, peering out of the door. 'Even - blimey - Dumbledore's come to watch!'

My heart did a somersault as I dashed to the door to make sure. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard. I could have laughed out loud with relief. I was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare to try to hurt me if Grandfather was watching. I vaguely wondered if that was why Snape was looking angry as the teams marched onto the field. I made sure to hide slightly behind the Weasley twins as Snape spoke to us briefly and the moment he blew his whistle, I was straight in the air, not wanting to be anywhere near him.

As the chasers fought to get the Quaffle into the hoops, I began to scan the field for the snitch. Wood wanted a quick game, so I'd give him one. Despite the fact that I had to wear glasses (according to Uncle Vernon I had some sort of problem with my eyes), I had very sharp eyes and was usually able to take in things that others would normally miss. Then, not even five minutes into the game, I spotted the snitch and automatically went into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. I ignored them and continued streaked toward the ground like a bullet. My eyes never leaving the small golden ball. I end up speeding straight at Snape, who had flown in my way, not that I was going to stop for him. He'd just have to move. Luckily, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches - the next second, I had pulled out of the dive, my arm raised in triumph with the Snitch clasped in my hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly; the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. I knew that Wood would be happy.

I jumped off my broom, a foot from the ground as Gryffindors came spilling onto the field. A short distance away I saw Snape land, white-faced and tight-lipped - then I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up into Grandfather's smiling face.

'Well done,' Grandfather said quietly, so that only I could hear. 'Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror... been keeping busy... excellent...'

I could hear the proudness in his voice, and I couldn't help but beam back. To know that my family was proud of me meant so much.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

I left the locker room alone some time later, to take my Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broom shed. I couldn't ever remember feeling happier. I'd really done something to be proud of now - no one could say I was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. I walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in my head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift me onto their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed, though I had no idea how that happened.

Upon reaching the shed, I leaned against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor was in the lead. I'd done it, I'd shown Snape... And speaking of Snape... A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. My victory faded from my mind as I watched. I instantly recognised the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner - what was going on? It was the troll incident all over again.

Curious as to what my disliked potion master was up to, I jumped back on my Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle I saw Snape enter the forest at a run. I, of course, followed. However, the trees were so thick I couldn't see where Snape had gone. I flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until I heard voices. I glided toward them and landed silently in a towering beech tree. I climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to my broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too. I couldn't make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. I strained to catch what they were saying.

'... d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus...'

'Oh, I thought we'd keep this private.' Snape's voice was ice cold. 'Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all.'

Quirrell was mumbling something, but Snape interrupted him.

'Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?'

'B-b-but Severus, I –'

'You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell.' Snape took a threatening step toward him.

'I-I don't know what you…'

'You know perfectly well what I mean.'

An owl hooted loudly, and I nearly fell out of the tree with fright. I quickly steadied myself in time to hear Snape say, '- your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting.'

'B-but I d-d-don't –'

'Very well,' Snape cut in. 'We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie.'

He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Harry could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified.

'Harry, where have you been?' Hermione squeaked.

'We won! You won! We won!' shouted Ron, thumping me on the back. 'And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right - talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens.'

'Never mind that now,' I said breathlessly, only momentarily wondering when Neville and Ron had taken on Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. 'Let's find an empty room; you wait 'til you hear this...'

I made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, and then I told them what I'd seen and heard.

'So we were right, it is the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy - and he said something about Quirrell's "hocus pocus" - I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through –'

'So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?' said Hermione in alarm.

'It'll be gone by next Tuesday,' Ron said seriously.

* * *

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><strong>Written:<strong> 2 March 2012  
><strong>Updated:<br>Beta:**

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	5. Dragon, Unicorn and Centaur

**CHAPTER FIVE: DRAGON, UNICORN AND CENTAUR**

Surprisingly, Quirrell was a lot braver than we gave him credit for and as the weeks passed, the Stone remained untouched. We knew this since Quirrell would only reluctantly be near Snape and as the weeks past he seemed to become paler and thinner. Snape was also sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe, but just to be sure, Ron, Hermione and I decided to visit Hagrid to see whether we could weasel any information out of him.

When we knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut, we were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called 'Who is it?' before he let us in, and then shut the door quickly behind us. It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made us tea and offered us stoat sandwiches, which we wisely refused.

'So – what can I do for yeh?'

'We know about the Philosopher's Stone.' I said bluntly, causing Hagrid to choke on his tea. 'And we were wondering whether you can tell us what's guarding it, besides Fluffy.'

Hagrid frowned at me.

'0' course I can't,' he said. 'Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts – I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy.'

'Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here,' said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's beard twitched and we could tell he was smiling. 'We only wondered who had done the guarding, really.' Hermione went on. 'We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you.'

Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. Ron and I beamed at Hermione. Who'd have thought that she was so good at fluttery?

'Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that... let's see... he borrowed Fluffy from me... then some o' the teachers did enchantments... Professor Sprout - Professor Flitwick - Professor McGonagall –' he ticked them off on his fingers and I wasn't surprised to hear Grandmother mentioned in the list, 'Professor Quirrell - an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.'

'Snape?'

'Yeah - yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it.'

'You never know, Hagrid.' I said reasonably. 'It could just be an act. Snape's in on protecting the Stone, so it would be easy for him to find out how the other teachers have guarded it.'

'Listen ter me, Harry. I know Snape and yeh don't like each other, an' I know that ain't 'bout ter change, but believe me when I say that Snape isn't 'bout ter steal it.'

I wasn't convinced.

'You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?' I asked anxiously. 'And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?'

'Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore,' said Hagrid proudly.

'Well, that's something,' I muttered. 'Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling.'

'Can't, Harry, sorry,' said Hagrid. I noticed him glance at the fire. I looked at it, too.

'Hagrid - what's that?'

But I already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

'Ah,' said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, 'That's er...'

'Where did you get it, Hagrid?' said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the dragon egg. 'It must've cost you a fortune.'

'Won it,' said Hagrid. 'Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.'

'But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?' said Hermione.

'Well, I've bin doin' some readin',' said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. 'Got this outta the library - _Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit_ - it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on I em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here - how ter recognise diff'rent eggs - what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them.'

He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't.

'Hagrid, you live in a wooden house,' she said while I sternly glared at him.

But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire. Hermione and I exchanged a look while Ron was looking interestedly at the egg.

So now we had something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut. We constantly tried to convince him to get rid of the egg, but he refused to listen and several days later, it hatched before our very eyes while we were still trying to convince him that having a dragon was a bad idea, after sneaking out of the castle.

'Isn't he beautiful?' Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

'Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!' said Hagrid.

'Hagrid,' Hermione said half-heartedly, 'how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?'

Hagrid was about to answer when the colour suddenly drained from his face - he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

'What's wrong?' I asked nervously.

'Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains - it's a kid - he's runnin' back up ter the school.'

I bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him. Draco had seen the dragon.

Ron, Hermione and I quickly left after that and snuck back into the castle, wondering if Draco had gone to any teachers yet. We soon got our answer as Grandmother walked out of her office in her nightgown, with Draco next to her.

'Good evening,' she said coolly, before motioning us to go into her office. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the three of them.

'Nothing. I repeat, nothing, gives a student the right to walk around the school at night.' Grandmother said once we were standing in front of her desk with our heads bowed and shoulders sagged. 'And therefore as punishment for your actions, fifty points will be taken.'

'Fifty?' I gasped - Gryffindor would lose the lead, the lead I'd won in the last Quidditch match.

'Each.' Grandmother's eyes were hard as she looked over at me. So far, I hadn't had much of a chance to talk to my family to get to know them. I was still to meet my father's brothers. 'And to ensure it doesn't happen again, all four of you will receive detention.'

'Excuse me, Professor,' Draco interrupted with a small frown on his face. He had been sitting on a nearby desk looking as though he had been enjoying Grandmother's lecture. 'Perhaps I heard you wrong. I thought you said that four of us.'

'No you heard me correctly, Mr Malfoy. You see as honourable as your actions were, you too were out of bed after hours. You will join your classmates in detention.'

Huh, at least one good thing came from tonight. I thought happily as I struggled not to laugh at the look on Draco's face.

On the down side, a hundred and fifty points had been lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, Ron, Hermione and I ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the house cup. How could they ever make up for this? I didn't sleep all night for I was dreading the dawn. What would happen when the rest of Gryffindor found out what they'd done?

At first, Gryffindors passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the house points the next day thought there'd been a mistake. How could they suddenly have a hundred and fifty points fewer than yesterday? And then the story started to spread: Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, their hero of two Quidditch matches, had lost them all those points, him and a couple of other stupid first years. From being one of the most popular and admired people at the school,

I was suddenly the most hated. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on me, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup. Everywhere I went, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices as they insulted me. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as I walked past them, whistling and cheering, 'Thanks Potter, we owe you one!'

The following morning, notes were delivered to Ron, Hermione, and I at the breakfast table. They were all the same: _Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr Filch in the entrance hall. Professor McGonagall _

So at eleven o'clock that night, we went down to the entrance hall where we found Filch waiting along with Draco.

'Follow me,' said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside. 'I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?' he said, leering at them we walked across the school grounds. 'Oh yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me... It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well-oiled in case they're ever needed...'

We all paled slightly, grateful that Filch wasn't in charge of punishment. Then they heard a distant shout.

'Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.'

My heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. My relief must have showed on my face, because Filch said, 'I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy - it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece.'

Draco stopped dead in his tracks.

'The forest?' he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. 'We can't go in there at night - there's all sorts of things in there - werewolves, I heard.'

'That's your problem, isn't it?' said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. 'Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?'

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder. He looked as though he had been crying.

'Oh good lord, you're not still on about that bloody dragon, are yeh?' Filch said, looking disgusted.

I looked quickly at Hagrid.

'Norbert's gone. Dumbledore sent him to Romania to live in a colony.' Hagrid sniffed.

'But that's good, isn't it? He'll be with his own kind.' Hermione said gently.

'Yeah, but what if he don't like Romania? What if the other dragons are mean to him? He's just a baby after all.'

'Oh for god sake, pull yourself together man.' Filch said impatiently. 'You're going into the forest after all. Got to have your wits about cha.' He then turned and left.

'Right then,' said Hagrid, 'now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment.'

He led us to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted our hair as we looked into the forest.

'Look there,' said Hagrid, 'see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.'

'And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?' Draco asked, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

'There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,' said Hagrid. 'An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least.'

'I want Fang,' said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

'All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward,' said Hagrid. ' So me, Ron, an' Hermione'll go one way an' Draco, Harry, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now - that's it - an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh - so, be careful - let's go.'

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it we reached a fork in the earth path, and Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid took the left path while Malfoy, Fang and I took the right. We walked in silence, our eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

At one point, I bent down to get a better look at the blood and Draco thought that it would be the perfect opportunity to scare me. So as I stood up, he grabbed hold of my shoulder and made a weird growling noise. Panicking, and forgetting that I had a wand and what Hagrid had told us, I whipped around and punched him in the nose, thinking that a werewolf or something had grabbed hold of me. Draco fell to the ground holding his nose.

'Argh! I think you broke my nose!'

'Serves you right for trying to scare me!' I said, trying not to laugh as I helped him to his feet.

Once Draco was back on his feet, we continued towards the heart of the forest with Draco occasionally complaining about his nose. I had no sympathy for him.

We walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. I noticed that the blood was getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. I could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

'Look –' I murmured, holding out my arm to stop Draco. He flinched slightly, thinking that I was probably going to hit him again.

Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. We inched closer. It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. I had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.

I had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made me freeze where I stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered... Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Draco, Fang and I stood transfixed with our hearts so beating so fast that it hurt. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.

'AAAAAAAAAARGH!'

Draco let out a terrible scream and bolted - so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at me - unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward me - I couldn't move for fear. I knew that I should follow Draco and Fang, but I just couldn't move. Then a pain like I'd never felt before pierced my head; it was as though my scar was on fire.

The sound of hooves could be heard behind me, galloping, and something jumped clean over me, charging at the figure. At this stage, the pain in my head had gotten so bad that I fell to my knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When I looked up, the figure had gone and a centaur was standing over me; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body.

'Are you all right?' said the centaur, pulling me to my feet.

'Yes - thank you - what was that?'

The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at me, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on my forehead.

'You are a Valkyrie Princess,' he said, not that I understood what he meant. How could I be a princess when I was male? 'You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time - especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so I could clamber onto his back.

He then took off at a steady gallop and after a while he slowed to a walk and warned me to keep my head bowed in case of low-hanging branches as we made our way through the trees in silence. However, as we were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees Firenze suddenly stopped.

'Princess, do you know what unicorn blood is used -for?'

'No,' I said, startled by the odd question and confused as to why he insisted on calling me "Princess". Maybe "princess" had a different meaning to centaurs. 'We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions.'

'That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn,' said Firenze. 'Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenceless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips.'

'But who'd be that desperate?' I wondered out loud. 'If you're going to be cursed forever, deaths better, isn't it?'

'It is,' Firenze agreed, 'unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else - something that will bring you back to full strength and power - something that will mean you can never die. Princess, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?'

'The Philosopher's Stone! Of course - the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who –'

'Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?'

'Do you mean, that was Vol-'

'Harry! Harry, are you all right'

Hermione was running toward them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her.

'I'm fine,' I said, hardly knowing what I was saying. 'The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there.'

'This is where I leave you,' Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. 'You are safe now.'

I slid gracefully off his back.

'Good luck, young one,' said Firenze. 'The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times.'

He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving me shivering behind him, wondering what he meant.

When Ron, Hermione and I arrived back in the Gryffindor common room, I began to tell them what had happened in the forest as I paced up and down in front of the fire. I was still shaking.

'Snape wants the stone for Voldemort... and Voldemort's waiting in the forest... and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich...'

'Stop saying the name!' said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them. He hated it when I said Voldemort's name as did nearly every other living soul in the wizarding world.

I wasn't listening.

'Firenze saved me and I think the centaurs must show that Voldemort's coming back... at least I gather that's what Firenze meant. So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone. Then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off.'

Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.

'Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic.'

'Maybe, but Firenze sounded like he knew what he was talking about.' I muttered glancing at the sky. Dawn was approaching. 'We should get some sleep.'

Ron and Hermione murmured their agreement and went to bed, while I followed more slowly, thinking over the events of that night.

* * *

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><strong>Written: <strong>2 March 2012  
><strong>Updated:<br>Beta:**

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	6. Rescuing the Philosopher's Stone

**CHAPTER SIX: RESCUING THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE**

The school exams so came and went, during which time my scar constantly ached. It's amazing that I even got through my exams which my scar giving me tremendous headaches and half expecting Lord Voldemort to come charging into the exam room. Though I knew that was highly unlikely. Even though I hadn't met the guy, I was sure that he was pretty intelligent… at least that's how I perceived him from the way people spoke about him.

Anyway, our final exam was History of Magic. For one hour we sat answering questions about batty old wizards who had invented self-stirring cauldrons, and when the ghost of Professor Binns told us to put down our anti-cheating quills and roll up our parchment, I couldn't help but cheering with the rest of my classmates.

'That was far easier than I thought it would be,' said Hermione as we joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. 'I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager.'

Hermione always liked to go through our exam papers afterward, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so we wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

'No more studying,' Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. 'You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet.'

I was currently frowning and rubbing my forehead.

'It's not that. My scar… it keeps burning. It's been burning since the beginning of the exam period. Between studying and my scar, they've given me a massive headache.' I growled, resisting the temptation to whack my head against a nearby tree. At first it might help, but then it'd probably make things worse.

'Go to Madam Pomfrey,' Hermione suggested.

'I'm not ill,' I said. 'I think it's a warning... it means danger's coming...'

'But she could get rid of your headache…'

'My headache will go as soon as my scar stops annoying me.' I said.

Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.

'Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once; he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down.'

I nodded, but I couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was something I'd forgotten to do, something important. At first I thought it was something to do with the exams, but now I wasn't so sure. I mean, the exams were now over, so shouldn't the feeling have disappeared now too?

Sighing, I watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent me letters. Hagrid would never betray Grandfather. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy... never... but - I suddenly jumped to me feet, startling Hermione slightly.

'Where're you going?' Ron asked sleepily.

'I've just thought of something,' I said, with a note of panic in my voice. 'We've got to go and see Hagrid, now.'

'Why?' panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up. She was looking a little worried as to my suddenly strange behaviour.

'Don't you think it's a bit odd,' I said, scrambling up the grassy slope, 'that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have one? How many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pockets if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?'

'What are you talking about?' Ron asked. He was worried about my behaviour too.

I didn't answer as I flew across the grounds towards Hagrid's hut.

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

'Hullo,' he said, smiling as we stopped in front of him. Ron and Hermione were panting again. 'Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?'

'Yes, please,' said Ron, but I cut him off.

'No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?'

'Dunno,' said Hagrid casually, 'he wouldn' take his cloak off.'

Ron, Hermione and I all looked stunned. Hagrid raised his eyebrows.

'It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head - that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.'

'What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?' I asked casually so Hagrid wouldn't see what I was up to.

'Mighta come up,' said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. 'Yeah... he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here... He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I took after... so I told him... an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon... an' then... I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks... Let's see... yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted... but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he

didn' want it ter go ter any old home... So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy...'

'And did he - did he seem interested in Fluffy?' I asked, trying to keep my voice calm as I dreaded the answer that was sure to come.

'Well - yeah - how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep –'

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified.

'I shouldn'ta told yeh that!' he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey - where're yeh goin'?'

Ron, Hermione and I didn't speak to each other at all until we came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

'We've got to go to Gra - Dumbledore,' I said. 'Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak - it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Where's Dumbledore's office?'

Grandfather never told me where his office was and I didn't know anyone who had been to his office either. I looked over at Ron and Hermione, and judging by their faces, they didn't seem to know where his office was either.

'In that case, we'll just have to –'

'What are you three doing inside?'

The three of us looked around and saw Grandmother, carrying a large pile of books.

'We want to see Professor Dumbledore,' Hermione answered, after a moment's hesitation.

'See Professor Dumbledore?' Grandmother repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. Though when I thought about it, it probably was a little strange. 'Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago. He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once.'

'He's gone?' I said frantically. 'Now?'

'Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time –'

'But this is important.'

'Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter.'

I hesitated, wondering if I should tell her. In the end I decided to throw caution to the winds and tell her the reason. After all, she is my grandmother.

'It's about the Philosopher's Stone.'

Ron and Hermione looked at me with some surprise, compared to Grandmother. Whatever my grandmother had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up.

'How do you know -?' she spluttered.

'Professor, I think - I know - that Sn- that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore.'

She eyed me with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

'Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow,' she said finally. I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected.'

'But Professor –'

'Potter, I know what I'm talking about,' she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. 'I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine.' She then walked off, looking at us suspiciously.

'It's tonight,' I said, once I was sure Grandmother was out of earshot. We didn't bother to go outside like she suggested. 'Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note; I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up.'

'But what can we –'

Hermione gasped. Ron and I whipped around. Snape was standing there.

'Good afternoon,' he said smoothly.

We stared at him. Had he heard what we had been saying?

'You shouldn't be inside on a day like this,' he said, with an odd, twisted smile and a knowing gleam in his cold, black eyes.

'We were -' I began, without any idea what I was going to say.

'You want to be more careful,' Snape said warningly. 'Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?'

I blushed and lead the way outside, well aware of Snape's eyes watching me. Once outside on the stone steps, I turned to the others, after making sure that Snape was nowhere in sight and out of hearing range.

'Well, that's it then, isn't it?'

The other two stared at me, probably wondering what I was on about.

'I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first… tonight.'

'You're mad!' said Ron.

'You can't!' said Hermione. 'After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!'

'I don't care!' I said stubbornly. 'If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort will return. And that's the last thing I want to happen. Besides, Voldemort wants me dead, remember? He made that perfectly clear when he tried to kill me in the forest. Which means I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?'

I glared at them just to empathise my point.

'You're right Harry,' said Hermione in a small voice.

'I'll use the invisibility cloak,' I said, more to myself than to my friends.

'But will it cover all three of us?' said Ron.

'All - all three of us?'

'Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?'

'Of course not,' said Hermione briskly. 'How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and took through my books; there might be something useful...'

'But if we get caught, you two will be expelled, too.'

'Not if I can help it,' said Hermione grimly. 'Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve per cent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that.'

After dinner the three of us sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered us; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to us anyway. We still weren't forgiven for all the points we lost. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to try to break. Ron and I didn't talk much. Both of us were thinking about what we were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.

'Better get the cloak,' Ron muttered, as Lee finally left, stretching and yawning.

I quietly ran upstairs to our dark dormitory. I pulled out the cloak and then my eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given me for Christmas. I pocketed it to use on Fluffy - I didn't feel much like singing. Plus, I thought that my singing would more likely make it cry then put it to sleep. I ran back down to the common room.

'We'd better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us - if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own –'

'What are you doing?' said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

'Nothing, Neville, nothing,' I said, hurriedly putting the cloak behind my back.

Neville stared at our guilty faces. He wasn't convinced.

'You're going out again,' he said, hitting the nail straight on the head.

'No, no, no,' said Hermione. 'No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?'

I looked at the grandfather clock by the door. We couldn't afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

'You can't go out,' said Neville, 'you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble.'

'You don't understand,' I said desperately, 'this is important.'

But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate.

'I won't let you do it,' he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. 'I'll - I'll fight you!'

'Neville,' Ron exploded, 'get away from that hole and don't be an idiot –'

'Don't you call me an idiot!' said Neville. 'I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!'

'Yes, but not to us,' said Ron in exasperation. 'Neville, you don't know what you're doing.'

He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight.

'Go on then, try and hit me!' said Neville, raising his fists. 'I'm ready!'

I stepped forward and Neville eyed me warily.

'Neville,' I said, 'I'm really, really sorry about this.'

I raised her wand

'Petrificus Totalus!' I cried, pointing it at Neville.

Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board. Hermione ran to turn him over. Neville's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror.

'What've you done to him?' Ron whispered, looking at me as though I had grown another head.

'It's the full Body-Bind,' I said miserably. 'Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry.'

'I can't believe you know how to do a full Body-Bind.' said an amazed Hermione.

'You're not the only one who remembers spells.' I said quietly, leading the way out of the common room.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

When we reached the third-floor corridor, we saw that the door was already ajar.

'Well, there you are,' I said quietly, 'Snape's already got past Fluffy.'

Underneath the cloak, I turned to the other two.

'If you want to go back, I won't blame you. You can take the cloak, I won't need it now.'

'Don't be stupid,' said Ron.

'We're coming,' said Hermione.

I pushed the door open. As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see them.

'What's that at its feet?' Hermione whispered.

'Looks like a harp,' said Ron. 'Snape must have left it there.'

'It must wake up the moment you stop playing,' I said. 'Well, here goes...'

I put Hagrid's flute to my lips and blew. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note the beast's eyes began to droop. I hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased - it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.

'Keep playing,' Ron warned me as they slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. We could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads. 'I think we'll be able to pull the door open,' said Ron, peering over the dog's back. 'Want to go first, Hermione?'

'No, I don't!'

'All right.' Ron gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.

'What can you see?' Hermione said anxiously.

'Nothing - just black - there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop.'

I waved at Ron to get his attention and pointed at myself. I was still playing the flute.

'You want to go first? Are you sure?' said Ron. 'I don't know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to Hermione so she can keep him asleep.'

I handed the flute over. In the few seconds' silence, the dog growled and twitched, but the moment Hermione began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep. I climbed over it and looked down through the trapdoor. There was no sign of the bottom. I lowered myself through the hole until I was hanging on by my fingertips. Then I looked up at Ron and said, 'If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?'

'Right,' said Ron.

'See you in a minute, I hope...'

And I let go. Cold, damp air rushed past me as I fell down, down, down and - FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump I landed on something soft. I sat up and looked around, as my eyes adjusted to the gloom. I was sitting on some sort of plant.

'It's okay!' I called up to the light the size of a postage stamp, which was the open trapdoor, 'it's a soft landing, so you can jump!'

Ron followed right away. He landed, sprawled next to me.

'What's this stuff?' were his first words.

'Dunno, some sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!'

The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on my other side.

'We must be miles under the school,' she said.

'Lucky this plant thing's here, really,' said Ron.

'Lucky!' shrieked Hermione. 'Look at you both!'

She leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Ron and I, our legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without us noticing. Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the two of us fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around us.

'Stop moving!' Hermione ordered them. 'I know what this is - it's Devil's Snare!'

'Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help,' snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.

'Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!' said Hermione.

'Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!' I gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around my chest.

'Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare... what did Professor Sprout say? – it likes the dark and the damp…'

'So light a fire!' I choked.

'Yes - of course - but there's no wood!' Hermione cried, wringing her hands.

Ron and I looked at her, hardly believing our ears.

'HAVE YOU GONE MAD?' Ron bellowed. 'ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?'

'Oh, right!' said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same flames she had used on Snape at the plant. In a matter of seconds, Ron and I felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unravelled itself from our bodies, and we were able to pull free.

'Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione,' I said as I joined her by the wall, wiping sweat off my face.

'Yeah,' said Ron, 'and lucky Harry doesn't lose his head in a crisis - 'there's no wood, honestly.'

'This way,' I said, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward, which prevented any arguments.

All we could hear apart from our footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and I was reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, I remembered the dragons said to be guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon - Norbert had been bad enough...

'Can you hear something?' Ron whispered.

I listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.

'Do you think it's a ghost?'

'I don't know... sounds like wings to me. Besides, I doubt any ghosts could harm us.' I said, walking forward cautiously. 'There's light ahead - I can see something moving.'

We reached the end of the passageway and saw before us a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above us. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

'Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?' said Ron.

'Probably,' I said. 'They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once... well, there's no other choice... I'll run.'

I sprinted across the room. I expected to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at me any second, but nothing happened. I reached the door untouched. I pulled the handle, but it was locked. The other two followed me. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried her Alohomora charm.

'Now what?' said Ron.

'These birds... they can't be here just for decoration,' said Hermione.

We watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering - glittering?

'They're not birds!' I said suddenly. 'They're keys! Winged keys - look carefully. So that must mean...' I looked around the chamber while the other two squinted up at the flock of keys. '... yes - look! A broomstick! One of us had got to catch the key to the door!'

'But there are hundreds of them!'

Ron examined the lock on the door.

'We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one - probably silver, like the handle.'

I turned my gaze upwards. It was not for nothing, that I was the youngest Seeker in a century. I had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's of just standing there, I noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

'There! I see it! The one with the broken wing!' I pointed to the key I was talking about, before looking down at the broom suspiciously.

'What's wrong, Harry?' Hermione asked, noticing the suspicious and slightly worried look I had on my face.

'It's too simple.'

'Oh, go on, Harry.' Ron said impatiently. 'If Snape can catch it on that old broom stick, I think you can. You're the youngest seeker of the century.'

I nodded my head and went over to the broom. Ron was right. Besides, I was probably over thinking it. Just because I found it simple didn't mean that everyone else would. They'd probably have difficulty figuring out what key to use, finding it and then catching it too.

There's nothing to worry about, I told myself as I reached for the broom.

The minute I grabbed hold of the broom I heard an angry buzzing sound and looked up in time to see the vast majority of keys coming flying start at me, like darts. I hurriedly hoped on the broom and took off, angrily swiping at the attacking keys around me. Who'd have thought that keys could be so violent?

I was eventually able to catch the key and the moment I a short distance off the ground, I jumped off the broom and the keys stopped attacking me. There must have been some sort of spell on the broom to make the keys attack whoever touched it.

I ran to the door, the key struggling in my hand, and rammed it into the lock and turned – it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

The next chamber was so dark we couldn't see anything at all, but as we stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight. We were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than we were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces.

'Now what do we do?' Hermione whispered.

'It's obvious, isn't it?' said Ron. 'We've got to play our way across the room.'

Behind the white pieces we could see another door.

'How?' said Hermione nervously.

'I think,' said Ron, 'we're going to have to be chessmen.'

He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.

'Do we - er - have to join you to get across?' The black knight nodded. Ron turned to Hermione and me.

'This needs thinking about he said. I suppose we've got to take the place of three of the black pieces...'

Hermione and I stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, 'Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess –'

'We're not offended,' I said quickly. 'Just tell us what to do.'

'Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you take the stop of the queen side rook.'

'What about you?'

'I'm going to be a knight,' said Ron.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop, and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving three empty squares that Hermione, Ron, and I took.

'White always plays first in chess,' said Ron, peering across the board.

'Yes... look...'

A white pawn had moved forward two squares.

Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. My knees were trembling. What if they lost? And it was then that a thought hit me. Was this going to be like real wizards chess? I soon got my answer when our other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.

'Had to let that happen,' said Ron, looking shaken. 'Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on.'

Every time one of our men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Hermione and I were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

'We're nearly there,' he muttered suddenly. 'Let me think let me think...'

The white queen turned her blank face toward him.

'Yes...' said Ron softly. 'It's the only way... I've got to be taken.'

'NO!' Hermione and I shouted.

'That's chess!' snapped Ron. 'You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me - that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!'

'But –'

'Do you want to stop Snape or not?'

'Ron –'

'Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!'

There was no alternative.

'Ready?" Ron called his face pale but determined. 'Here I go - now, don't hang around once you've won.'

He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor - Hermione screamed but stayed on her square - the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out. Shaking, I moved three spaces to the left. The white king took off his crown and threw it at my feet. We had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear.

However, we ignored what Ron said and hurried to his side. He was still breathing.

'Take care of Ron,' I told Hermione, not wanting to leave Ron on his own. 'Then send a message to Gra-Dumbledore. I think it best if I go on alone.' I looked over at the door which led on.

'You'll be okay, Harry.' Hermione said quietly, yet confidently. 'You're a great wizard. You really are.'

I blushed ever so slightly.

'Not as good as you.'

'Me? Books. Cleverness.' Hermione said with a slight laugh. 'There are more important things. Friendship and bravery. And Harry, just be careful.'

'I will.' I promised before heading towards the next door, well aware of Hermione's worried eyes watching me.

When I entered the next chamber, a disgusting smell filled their nostrils. I hurriedly covered my nose. Eyes watering, I saw, flat on the floor in front of me, a troll even larger than the one Ron and I had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.

'I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one,' I muttered to myself as I stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. "

I pulled open the next door. There was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

I knew that this had to be Snape's seeing as Sprout's was the Devil's Snare, Flitwick had to have charmed the keys, Grandmother's was the transfigured chess game and Quirrell's was the troll.

The moment I stepped over the threshold, a fire sprang up behind me in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. I was trapped.

Trying not to panic, I scanned the room to see if there was some clue as to what I was supposed to do. My eyes fell upon a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. I quickly picked it up and read it:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

I let out a great sigh and smiled. Trust Snape to come up with something like this. It wasn't magic, but logic. A word puzzle. My fourth year primary school teacher use to give me word puzzles, since he knew I found it enjoyable and challenging. I read the paper several times. Then I walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to myself and pointing at them. A few minutes later, I found the bottle which would take me to the Stone.

Positive that the smallest bottle would take me towards the Stone, I picked it up and turned to face the black flames.

'Here I come,' I muttered, and I drained the little bottle in one gulp.

It felt as though ice was flooding my body. I put the bottle down and walked forward; bracing myself, saw the black flames licking my body, but couldn't feel them - for a moment I could see nothing but dark fire - then I was on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was already someone there - but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort. It was Quirrell.

'You!'

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all.

'Me,' he said calmly. 'I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here.'

'But I thought - Snape –'

'Severus?' Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. 'Yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?'

I couldn't take it in. This couldn't be true, it couldn't.

'But Snape tried to kill me!'

'No, dear boy. I tried to kill you. If Severus' cloak hadn't caught fire and broken my eye contact, I would have succeeded. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Severus hadn't been muttering a counter-curse, trying to save you.'

'Snape was trying to save me?'

'Of course,' said Quirrell coolly. 'Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really... he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Severus was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular... and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight.'

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around me.

'You're too nosy to live, kid. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.'

'You let the troll in?'

'Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls - you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Severus, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off - and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Severus' leg off properly. Now, wait quietly. I need to examine this interesting mirror.

It was then that I realised that the Mirror of Erised was standing behind Quirrell.

'This mirror is the key to finding the Stone,' Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. 'Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this... but he's in London... I'll be far away by the time he gets back...'

All I could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror.

'I saw you and Snape in the forest –' I blurted out.

'Yes,' said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. 'He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side...'

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it.

'I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?'

I struggled against the ropes binding me, but they didn't give. So instead, I focused on distracting Quirrell. I had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror.

'But Snape always seemed to hate me so much.'

'Oh, he does,' said Quirrell casually, 'heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead.' Quirrell then cursed under his breath. 'I don't understand... is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?'

My mind was racing.

What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, I thought, is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it - which means I'll see where it's hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realising what I'm up to?

I tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around my ankles were too tight: I tripped and fell over. Thankfully, Quirrell ignored me. He was still talking to himself.

'What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!'

To my horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

'Use the boy... Use the boy...'

Quirrell rounded on me.

'Yes - Potter - come here.'

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding me fell off. I slowly got to my feet.

'Come here,' Quirrell repeated. 'Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.'

I cautiously walked toward him.

I must lie, I thought desperately. I must look and lie about what I see, that's all.

Quirrell moved close behind me. I breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. I closed my eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again. I saw my reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at me. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket - and as it did so, I felt something heavy drop into my real pocket. Somehow - incredibly – I'd gotten the Stone.

'Well?' said Quirrell impatiently. 'What do you see?'

I screwed up my courage. I was a Gryffindor after all.

'I see myself standing with my parents.'

Quirrell cursed again.

'Get out of the way,' he said, shoving me aside, roughly. As I was pushed aside, I felt the Philosopher's Stone against my leg.

As I was debating whether I should make a break for it or not, a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.

'He lies... He lies...'

'Potter, come back here!' Quirrell shouted. 'Tell me the truth! What did you just see?'

The high voice spoke again.

'Let me speak to him... face-to-face...'

'Master, you are not strong enough!'

'I have strength enough... for this...'

I felt as if Devil's Snare was rooting me to the spot. I couldn't move a muscle. Petrified, I watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot. I would have screamed, but I couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face I had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

'Harry...' it whispered.

I tried to take a step backward but my legs wouldn't move.

'See what I have become?' the face said. 'A mere shadow and vapour ... I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... Now... why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?'

So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into me legs. I stumbled backward.

'Don't be a fool,' snarled the face. 'Better save your own life and join me... or you'll meet the same end as your parents... They died begging me for mercy...'

'LIAR!' I yelled suddenly, surprising even myself.

Quirrell was walking backwards towards him, so that Voldemort could still see him. The evil face was now smiling. I smile that would make babies cry and frightened me.

'How touching...' it hissed. 'I always value bravery... Yes, boy, your parents were brave... I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn't have died... she was trying to protect you... Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain.'

'NEVER!'

I knew that my parents and grandparents would probably be ashamed if I gave the dark Lord the Stone. So, I sprang toward the flame door, but Voldemort screamed 'SEIZE HIM!' and the next second, I felt Quirrell's hand close on my wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across my scar; my head felt as though it was about to split in two; I yelled, struggling with all my might, and to my surprise, Quirrell let go of me. The pain in my head lessened - I looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers - they were blistering before our eyes. I couldn't understand why, but I had no time to ponder it, for Voldemort was screaming at Quirrell again.

'Seize him! SEIZE HIM!' shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking me clean off my feet and landed on top of me, both hands around my neck - my scar was almost blinding me with pain, yet I could see and hear Quirrell howling in agony.

'Master, I cannot hold him - my hands - my hands!'

And Quirrell, though pinning me to the ground with his knees, let go of my neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms - I could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.

'Then kill him, fool, and be done!' screeched Voldemort.

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse but, by instinct, I reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face.

'AAAARGH!'

Quirrell rolled off me, his face blistering, too, and it was then that I realised that Quirrell couldn't touch my bare skin, at least not without suffering terrible pain. I knew that my only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse. I jumped to my feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as I could.

It was then that a new pain entered my body and I knew at once what this pain was. It was the tremor; except it was more painful than ever before. It was that painful that I could prevent what was about to happen. As the tremor took place, turning me into a girl, I watched as Quirrell's eyes widened; and when he moved his head to let Voldemort see, I saw his eyes widen to with some sort of understanding, before a peculiar look crossed his face. A look I didn't like one bit.

Quirrell's screams became louder and he desperately tried to throw me off – the pain in my head was building - I couldn't see - I could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Voldemort's yells of, 'Stun her! Stun her!' and other voices, maybe in my own head, crying, 'Harry! Harry!'

I felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from my grasp and felt someone pick me up, before holding me tightly in their arms as the darkness took me.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 12 March 2012  
><strong>Updated:<br>Beta:**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED. FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA**.


	7. And So the Valkyrie and Uncle Meet!

**CHAPTER SEVEN: AND SO THE VALKYRIE AND UNCLE MEET!**

I awoke to feeling warm and safe, in a comfortable bed, which I immediately knew wasn't my bed in Gryffindor Tower. I could also tell by the scent of the room. Instead of having a slight unclean stench, it smelt of different herbs. Curious as to where I was, I opened my eyes and Grandfather's relieved and smiling face came into view.

'Good afternoon, sweet heart,' said Grandfather.

I stared at him blankly before I remembered: 'Grandfather! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Grandfather, quick –'

'Calm yourself, child, you are a little behind the times,' said Grandfather. 'Quirrell does not have the Stone.'

'Then who does? Grandfather, I –'

'Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey and your grandmother will be after my blood, for not letting you rest.'

I frowned and took in my surroundings. I was in an average size bedroom, so I knew that I wasn't in the hospital wing. The stone walls had green vines painted on them, making it look like it was the outside of a tower with real vines growing on it. There were also several pieces of furniture. At one side of the room was a huge cupboard; while on the wall next to it was a wooden desk with a matching chair. On the wall opposite the cupboard was the queen, size, four post bed I was currently laying in. It had a see through, light green canopied. Overall the room looked like it was made for a fairy tale princess. It was beautiful.

I then looked over at one of my bedside tables and saw that it was piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

'Tokens from your friends and admirers,' said Grandfather, beaming. 'What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam

Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it.'

I chuckled slightly. Fred and George always knew how to raise my spirits.

'How long have I been out?'

'Three days. Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried.'

'But Grandfather, the Stone…'

'I see you are not to be distracted, just like your father and uncles. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take the Stone from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say.'

'You got there? You got Hermione's owl?'

No. The moment I reached London I realised that something was wrong and immediately returned to the place I had just left. Call it a Grandfather's instinct. By the time I got Severus and hurried down to the Stone, we found you hanging onto a screaming Professor Quirrell. Severus automatically pulled you away from him while I was left to deal with Professor Quirrell and Voldemort.'

'It was Uncle Severus.'

'We feared we might be too late.'

'You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer –'

'Not the Stone, child, you - the effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, we were afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed.'

'Destroyed?' I said blankly. 'But your friend - Nicolas Flamel –'

'Oh, you know about Nicolas?' said Grandfather, sounding quite delighted. 'You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best.'

'But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?'

'They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order, but yes, they will die.'

Grandfather smiled at the look of amazement on my face.

'To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all - the trouble is humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them.'

I sat there lost for words, before saying, 'Grandfather, I've been thinking; even if the Stone's gone, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?'

'No, my dear, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time - and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power.'

I nodded, and said, 'Grandfather, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me... things I want to know the truth about...'

'The truth.' Grandfather sighed. 'It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie.'

'Well... Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?'

Grandfather sighed very deeply this time.

'Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know one day... put it from your mind for now. When you are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know.'

And I knew it would be no good to argue. He did raise three boys after all.

'But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?'

'Lily died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realise that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.'

Grandfather now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave me time to dry my eyes on the sheet.

When I had found my voice again, I said, 'And there's something else...'

'Fire away.'

'Quirrell said Snape hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?'

'No, it's not,' said a quiet voice from the doorway, making me jump and then pale when I saw who it was. Snape was standing there.

'If you'd please excuse me, I've got to visit the men's room.' Grandfather said before leaving the room. I got the feeling that wasn't the real reason he was leaving.

Snape took his empty seat and I eyed him warily, but I was also curious as to what he had to say.

'When your father and I were at school, everyone believed that we detested each other, but it was not so.' Snape said after a few moments of silence. 'Father believed is to be safe if we took on different names and looks. Safe from Grindelwald and later, Voldemort. He thought it would also be best if we were school rivals. Even after school he wanted us to pretend that we hated each other. Something we both despised.'

'I don't understand. Are you saying that _you_ are my father's twin, Severus?'

'I am.' Before my eyes, the bat of the Hogwarts' dungeons changed into a handsome young man. Gone was the greasy black haired curtains, which were replaced with black, soft, shoulder length hair that was lightly pulled back into a ponytail. His hooked nose also disappeared and changed into an ordinary one, and his sallow skin became healthy once more. His once cold, seemingly black eyes became hazel that greatly resembled Grandmother's.

I gasped. He _was_ my Uncle Severus. I remembered him from the Mirror of Erised.

'I don't understand. You said that you and Father were only acting that you hated each other, right?'

'Yes.'

'Then why are you so mean to me?' I demanded, with angry tears in my eyes. My emotions were running wild. 'Is it because I survived and Father died?'

'Of course not!' Uncle Severus was horrified.

'Oh really? Then why are you so cruel to me?' I snapped, not believing what he said even for a second.

'Believe me when I say that I did not enjoy it. Father believed it best if I pretended to hate you because of James. 'Uncle Severus said sincerely.

'Why?'

'For your own safety.'

I stared at him suspiciously and he looked back at me calmly.

'So you don't blame me for Dad's death?' I asked. I needed him to confirm it.

'No. The Dark Lord, your father's supposedly best friend and I are the only ones to truly blame for James' death.' Uncle Severus looked away from me sadly with regret and guilt evident in his eyes.

'Wh – what?' I gasped. 'Why? How?'

'I was manipulated by the Dark Lord and I told him something that ultimately led to your parents' deaths and nearly yours.' He then stood abruptly. 'I've got to go and teach my class. Rest easy… Harry.'

He left the room. I sat there shocked, wondering if he was trying to make me hate him, wanting a punishment. I didn't even notice Grandfather enter the room.

'Are you all right, dear?' Grandfather asked me when he took the seat Uncle Severus had emptied moments before.

'Is it true that he is one of the people to blame for what happened the night my parents died?' I demanded.

'When you are older, you will understand why Severus was led astray, but know that when he found out that James, Lily and you were in danger, he immediately did everything in his power to protect you.' Grandfather said quietly. He knew how much pain James death caused his youngest son.

'If you say so.' I said quietly. Somehow I didn't think I'd have a good relationship with Uncle Severus. Already I was wishing that he wasn't my uncle. 'Grandfather, how did I get the Stone out of the mirror?'

'Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes.'

I laughed before coming serious once again.

'Grandfather, why haven't you and Snape – I mean, Uncle Severus – acted weirdly around me?'

'I don't understand what you mean.' Grandfather looked slightly baffled.

'Why aren't you saying anything about me being a girl? Why aren't you calling me weird or sending me to a hospital?'

'There's nothing strange or wrong with being a Valkyrie.'

'I'm a what?'

'A Valkyrie – didn't your Aunt Petunia tell you?'

'If it was in that letter you left on the doorstep with me, than no. She never told me anything that was in that letter.'

'I see. Do you know Valkyries are?'

'Yeah, blonde, blue-eyed warrior maidens who assisted Odin by choosing which newly slain warriors would enter Valhalla…' I recited from one of my old history lessons.

'You speak of Norse mythology.' Grandfather interrupted gently. 'There are many different classifications of Valkyries; however, the classification you fall under is a wizarding Valkyrie. A warrior maiden with the power to heal those she loves and the power to transform into a man. I'll give you a book on Valkyries so you have a better understanding.'

'Okay, but there's one more thing…'

'Just the one?'

Yes… where am I?'

Grandfather chuckled slightly.

'You are in your very own bedroom at Hogwarts, in Severus' personal quarters.'

'And Sn-Uncle Severus is alright with this arrangement?' I asked suspiciously.

'Of course. He loves you deeply. Now, I believe you should get some rest; otherwise we will have your grandmother and Madam Pomfrey cracking down on us.'

'Okay.'

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was a nice woman, but very strict. She had me in bed resting up until the end of term feast and only let me go after constant begging and when Grandfather took my side. She was the only person at the school who knew the truth about our family since she needed to know if anything happened since she was the school nurse.

I made my way down to the end-of-year feast alone. I had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting on giving me one last check-up, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colours of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.

When I walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. I slipped into a seat between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at me.

Ron and Hermione were overjoyed to see me. Grandfather had spread the rumour that I was in the wizarding hospital, St Mungo's. We then started a very quiet conversation of what happened after the chess match.

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumours. I told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. Ron and Hermione were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when I told them what was under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed out loud. People quickly turned and looked at her.

'So the Stone's gone?' said Ron finally. 'Flamel's just going to die?'

'That's what I said, but Gr-Dumbledore thinks that - what was it? – "to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure".'

'I always said he was off his rocker,' said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy my hero was. He didn't notice the look I gave him for saying that Grandfather was off his rocker.

'So what happened to you two?' I said.

'Well, I got back all right,' said Hermione. 'I brought Ron round - that took a while - and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall - he already knew – he just said, "Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?" and hurtled off to the third floor.'

'D'you think he meant you to do it?' said Ron. 'Sending you your father's cloak and everything?'

'Well,' Hermione exploded, 'if he did - I mean to say that's terrible - you could have been killed.'

'No, it isn't,' I said thoughtfully. 'I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could...'

Grandfather arrived moments later. The babble died away.

'Another year gone!' Grandfather said cheerfully. 'And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...'

I noticed that Uncle Severus didn't look particularly happy in regards to that last statement. Neither did Grandmother, for that matter.

'Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points.' I hid my head slightly. It was partly my fault that we lost. In the last Quidditch match, Ravenclaw steamrolled the Gryffindor team since I wasn't there. 'In third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy- two.'

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. I could see Draco banging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.

'Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin,' said Grandfather. 'However, recent events must be taken into account.'

The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little.

'Ahem,' said Grandfather. 'I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes... First - to Mr Ronald Weasley...' Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with bad sunburn. '...for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.'

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, 'My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!'

At last there was silence again.

'Second - to Miss Hermione Granger... for the cool use of intellect when others were in grave help, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.'

Hermione buried her face in her arms; I strongly suspected she had burst into tears. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves - they were a hundred points up.

'Third - to Mr Harry Potter...' said Grandfather. The room went deadly quiet. 'For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points.'

I gasped and looked over at Grandmother who looked a little wet in the eyes and then at Uncle Severus. In one quick movement, he scaringly smiled at me, before becoming expressionless once more.

Maybe I should try to get to know him, I thought as those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points - exactly the same as Slytherin. We had tied for the house cup.

Grandfather raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.

'There are all kinds of courage,' said Grandfather, smiling. 'It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr Neville Longbottom.'

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Hermione, Ron, and I stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. He had never won as much as a point for Gryffindor before.

'Which means,' Grandfather called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, 'we need a little change of decoration.'

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Uncle Severus was shaking Grandmother's hand, with a horrible, forced smile, but I noticed that his eyes spoke otherwise. They were slightly teasing as if to say, 'We'll win next year.'

It was the best evening of my life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls... I would never, ever forget tonight.

I had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. Ron and I both passed with good marks; Hermione, of course, had the best grades of the first years. Even Neville scraped through, his good Herbology mark making up for his abysmal Potions one. We had hoped that Goyle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might be thrown out, but he had passed, too. It was a shame, but as Ron said, you couldn't have everything in life.

And suddenly, our wardrobes were empty, our trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ('I always hope they'll forget to give us these,' Fred said sadly); Hagrid was there to take us down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; we were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bettie Bott's Every Flavour Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off our wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station.

It took quite a while for us all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting us go through the gate in twos and threes so we didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

'You must come and stay this summer,' said Ron, 'both of you - I'll send you an owl.'

'Thanks,' I said. 'But I'll be staying with my grandparent's for the end of the holidays.'

Ron and Hermione didn't question this. They assumed that I meant my Mum's parents.

People jostled us as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:

'Bye, Harry!'

'See you, Potter!'

'Still famous,' said Ron, grinning at me.

'Not where I'm going, I promise you,' I said.

Hermione, Ron, and I passed through the gateway together.

'There he is, Mum, there he is, look!'

It was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.

'Harry Potter!' she squealed. 'Look, Mom! I can see…'

'Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point.'

Mrs Weasley smiled down at us.

'Busy year?' she said.

'Very,' I said. 'Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs Weasley.'

'Oh, it was nothing, dear.'

'Ready, are you?'

It was Uncle Vernon, still purple-faced, still moustached, still looking furious at the nerve of me, carrying an owl in a cage in a station full of ordinary people. Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of me.

'You must be Harry's family!' said Mrs Weasley.

'In a manner of speaking,' said Uncle Vernon. 'Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day.' He walked away.

However, I hung back for a last word with Ron and Hermione.

'Hope you have - er - a good holiday,' said Hermione, looking uncertainly after Uncle Vernon, shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant.

'Oh, I will,' I said, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over my face. 'They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer...'

I then hurried after my family, already counting down the days when I'd be back at Hogwarts with my true family that loved me.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 19 March 2012  
><strong>Updated:<br>Beta:**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED. FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	8. Summer Holidays

**CHAPTER EIGHT: SUMMER HOLIDAYS**

To be honest, I thought that my summer holidays would be my worse holidays ever. The Dursleys were still furious about Hagrid giving Dudley a pigtail and were not pleased to see me, but that was no surprise. The moment we got home, Uncle Vernon locked all my spell books, broom, wand and everything else he deemed to be abnormal in the cupboard underneath the stairs. I was surprised that he didn't lock Hedwig and me under there too. He was probably afraid that I would turn them all into fruit bats if he attempted to. However, with my school belongings locked away, I was unable to complete my summer homework, but the Dursleys didn't care. They didn't care if I got in trouble for not having my homework done.

As the weeks went on, I enjoyed muttering gibberish under my breath whenever Dudley annoyed me and to then see him run off as fast as his legs would take him to his parents. I usually got a long list of chores after my little moment of fun. Same went if I said words like "magic", "wizard", or "Hogwarts". Basically any words that have something to do with my abnormality, as Uncle Vernon kindly put it. However, my fun with Dudley soon began to wear off when I received no contact from any of my friends or family. None of them had bothered to owl me, and I wasn't able to owl them since Uncle Vernon locked Hedwig in her cage, not that this was his best idea. Hedwig didn't appreciate being locked up, which resulted in her screeching at all hours of the morning, which then led to an annual agreement at the breakfast table.

'I'm warning you; if you can't control that ruddy bird it'll have to go.' Uncle Vernon warned me once again.

'But she's bored! If I could only let her out for… an hour or two…' I argued back, trying to allow Hedwig some freedom.

'Do I look stupid?' Uncle Vernon said with some egg dangling in his bushy moustache. I resisted the urge to say, 'Do you really want me to answer that?' Instead, I remained quiet. 'I know what will happen if the bird is let loose.'

He exchanged a look with Aunt Petunia and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

I opened my mouth to argue back, but I was interrupted by a huge, long belch from my massive, whale-sized cousin, Dudley. I couldn't believe we were related.

'Want more bacon,' he said to his mother.

'There's more in the frying pan, sweetums.' Aunt Petunia said, turning her attention from me to Dudley. 'We need to feed you up while we've got the chance. I don't like the sound of the food at Smeltings.'

'Nonsense, Petunia. I never went hungry while I was at Smeltings. Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?'

Dudley didn't answer for he was looking at me.

'Pass the fry pan!' he ordered.

'You forgot the magic word!' I said irritably, glaring at my cousin. It wouldn't kill him to use his manners every now and then. Then again, I don't even know if my cousin knew what manners were.

Unfortunately, magic was a swear word to the Dursleys. Dudley gave a terrified gasp, fell out of his chair and crashed to the ground which was like a mini earthquake. Aunt Petunia shrieked and hurried to Dudley's side. Uncle Vernon, however, stood up furiously, his face turning red with a vein throbbing in his temple.

'How dare you use the "M" word in front of Dudley!' he roared, spit flying everywhere. 'How dare you threaten Dudley! How dare you mention your abnormally under this roof!'

'Whatever,' I muttered, sulking slightly as I put some bacon onto Dudley's plate. He had been heaved to his feet by Aunt Petunia, not that I understood how she managed to do it.

Uncle Vernon sat back down and glared at me as I picked at my food. If you couldn't tell, I was upset. See today was my birthday and I had been expecting a card or letter from my grandparents wishing me a happy birthday, or at least writing to see how I was. I hadn't even gotten anything from Ron and Hermione. I didn't even get my hopes up for anything from the Dursleys.

Uncle Vernon, having now calmed down, cleared his throat and said, 'Okay, we all know that today is a very special day…'

I looked up, barely believing what I was hearing. Was he seriously saying what I thought he was saying?

'This is the day I make the biggest business deal of the lifetime,' he said.

I looked back down at my breakfast. Of course, Uncle Vernon's stupid business dinner with a rich builder, whom Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a large order of drills from. How could I have forgotten? He had been going on about nothing else for weeks, trying to make the dinner flow perfectly.

'Let's go over our schedule one more time. Petunia, when the Mason's arrive, you'll be…'

'In the living room. Waiting to welcome them graciously to our home,' said Aunt Petunia.

'Right… and Dudley?'

'I'll be waiting to open the door,' answered Dudley. 'May I take your coats Mr and Mrs Mason?' he said in a sickly voice… at least that's how it was to me.

'Oh, they'll live him!' exclaimed Aunt Petunia, while I tried not to vomit.

'And you?' Uncle Vernon asked, turning on me.

'I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I don't exist.' I answered in a dead tone. It was the same answer I had been giving him for the past few weeks, every time he asked. 'Which is where I'm going now. So if you excuse me…'

'Oh no you don't,' said Uncle Vernon, grabbing my arm, preventing me from leaving the room. 'You can go once all your chores are done.'

Aunt Petunia handed me a piece of paper with my chores written on it.

'You've got to be kidding me! It will take me hours to get all this done!' I exclaimed when I finished reading the list.

'Then I suggest you get started,' Uncle Vernon said nastily.

I stormed out the room and outside with a scream, of frustration. I wouldn't have minded doing chores if Dudley got them too, but no… Dudley couldn't possibly be given such a hardship.

For the entire day I was outside working in the blazing sun. I was out there pulling weeds from the flower beds, washing the windows and car, mowing the lawn, repainting the outside bench, among other ridiculous chores, while Dudley lolled around eating ice-creams. I was so tempted to march over to him and shove the ice-cream in his face, but I knew that I would end up in serious trouble if I did. Besides, I needed to focus my energy on my chores and not waste my time on the likes of him.

This had to be, without a doubt, the worst birthday I've ever had. No cards from my friends and family, slaving outside in the heat and then spending the night pretending that I didn't exist. I vaguely wondered if I did something terrible in a previous life to have a horrible one.

Several minutes before the Masons were due to arrive, Aunt Petunia ushered me inside. I gratefully stepped inside. I was covered in dirt and sweat… and I probably stunk.

'Walk on the newspaper and quickly eat,' said Aunt Petunia. She was already wearing a salmon coloured dress.

I did as she asked, too tired to argue, and walked on the laid out newspaper as though I was some sort of animal. I then inhaled my pitiful dinner of cheese and bread – I hadn't gotten any lunch – and went to my room, with Uncle Vernon calling up the stairs, reminding me to remain quiet.

'I got it the first hundred times,' I growled as I opened my bedroom door. At that moment the doorbell rang telling us that the Masons had arrived.

I hope Mr Mason doesn't agree to the deal, I thought bitterly as I closed my bedroom door and chanced into my true form. I had become more comfortable as a female now that I knew the truth about being a Valkyrie. In fact, I was more comfortable as a female than a male.

It would deserve him right; I continued to think bitterly as I went to collapse on my bed. It was then I got the shock of my life. Someone was sitting on my bed, and that someone was a little creature with large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls.

I somehow managed not to yell out, instead I just stared at it and it stared back. Moments later, the creature slipped off the bed and bowed that low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. It was then that I noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase with rips for arm –and leg-holes.

'Princess Harrietta! What an honour it is!' the creature said in a high-pitched voice.

'There was that "Princess" thing again, but I barely paid it any attention. I was more interested as to who this creature was and what it was doing in my room.

'Who are you?' I demanded coldly. I currently wasn't the most pleasant person in the world.

'Dobby, Princess. Dobby the house-elf,' answered the creature.

'Not to be rude, but this isn't a really good time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom. Is there any particular reason why you're here?'

'Oh yes, Princess,' dobby said earnestly, but I could tell that my coldness towards him had hurt his feelings. 'Dobby has come to tell you… it is difficult, Princess… Dobby wonders where to begin…'

'Why don't you sit down,' I suggested warily, indicating to my desk chair as I collapsed on my bed.

To my horror, Dobby burst into very noisy tears and I swore the voices downstairs flattered.

'I'm sorry,' I whispered hurriedly. 'I didn't mean to offend you or anything –'

'Offend Dobby!' choked the elf. 'Dobby has heard of your greatness, Princess, but never has Dobby been asked to sit down by a wizard, let alone a Princess, as an equal.'

'Let alone a Princess?' I repeated, not understanding what he meant. 'Well, I don't know what you mean about princesses, but you can't have met many decent wizards.'

'No, Dobby hasn't,' the elf said brightly, before looking horrified at what he just said. 'That was a horrible thing to say.' Without warning, Dobby lunged at my dressing table and began whacking his head against it… heard. The entire time he shouted, 'Bad Dobby! Bad!'

'Stop! What are you doing?' I hissed, jumping off my bed and pulling the small creature away.

'Dobby had to punish himself, Princess,' said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. 'Dobby spoke ill of his family, Princess…'

'Family?'

'The wizard family Dobby serves, Princess. As a house-elf, Dobby is bound to serve one family forever. If they ever knew Dobby was here…' dobby shuddered. 'But Dobby had to come. Dobby has to protect Princess Harrietta. To warn her… Princess Harrietta must not return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. There is a plot. A plot to make most terrible things happen.'

'What plot? Who's plotting them?' I asked immediately.

Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head frantically against the wall.

'All right!' I said, grabbing the elf by the back of his pillowcase and pulling him away from the wall. 'You can't tell me…'

I broke off as I heard Uncle Vernon coming into the hall calling, 'Dudley must have left his television on again, little tyke.'

Heart pounding painfully, I picked the elf up, startling him and shoved him in my closest. I had just closed the door and flung myself onto my bed just as the door handle turned.

'What – the – devil – are – you – doing – up – here?' Uncle Vernon demanded through gritted teeth, his face horribly close to mine. 'You've just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke…'

'I guess I did them a favour then!' I snapped. I was not in the mood.

Uncle Vernon's eyes narrowed dangerously.

'I'll pretend I didn't hear that,' he snarled. 'One more sound and you'll wish you'd never be born.' He stomped flat-footed from the room.

Shaking with anger, I let Dobby out of the closet.

'And that is why I'm returning to Hogwarts,' I told the elf. 'If I have to stay with them for much longer, I'm going to go insane and probably do something I'd regret. Besides, it's the only place I've got friends.'

'Friends who don't even write to Princess Harrietta?' Dobby asked slyly.

'I expect they've been – hang on. How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?' I demanded when I realised what he had just said.

Dobby suddenly became nervous under my hard stare and shuffled his feet.

'Princess Harrietta mustn't be angry with dobby. Dobby hoped that if Princess Harrietta thought her friends had forgotten her, Princess Harrietta might not want to go back to school, Princess.' He withdrew a stack of letters from his pillowcase tunic. I recognised letters with Ron's chicken scrawl, Hermione's neat handwriting, Hagrid's handwriting and even Grandfather's handwriting.

My blood began to boil.

'Give me those, now!' I growled out, taking a threatening step towards the elf.

'Dobby will if Princess Harrietta promises she won't go back to school.'

'Never,' I growled, leaping forward to snatch the letters away from the elf, but Dobby was faster than me. To my horror, he ran out of the room and downstairs. I quickly followed him, taking four steps at a time, leaping down the last several steps and landed cat-like at the entrance. Dobby was nowhere in sight.

'Dobby?' I whispered urgently. I could hear the Dursleys and Masons talking in the lounge room.

I quietly snuck into the kitchen before I felt my stomach drop. Dobby was sitting on the kitchen bench with the desert Aunt Petunia had slaved over, floating next to him.

'Dobby, please, don't. They'll kill me!' I told him, glancing fearfully at my uncle.

'Princess Harrietta must promise that she won't go back to school.' Dobby said firmly.

'I can't! Hogwarts is my home!'

'Then dobby must do it, Princess. For Princess Harrietta's own good.' Dobby said sadly, before snapping his fingers and making the pudding float towards the Dursleys and Masons.

Horrified, I quickly knocked Dobby off the bench so no one would see him and hurried after the pudding. It took the Dursleys a few moments to notice the floating pudding with me focusing on it, trying to catch it. Just as I was about to catch the pudding, it fell and landed on top of Mrs Mason.

'I'm so sorry. It's my niece, she's very disturbed. We think strangers upset her, that's why we kept her upstairs.' Uncle Vernon apologised as the Masons looked at me, and then at Uncle Vernon for an explanation.

Then, to make matters worse, an owl flew in and dropped a letter on the coffee table in front of the Masons. This wouldn't have been a problem if Mrs Mason wasn't petrified of birds. As a result, Uncle Vernon didn't get the deal and I, of course, got the blame.

Once the Masons had left, Uncle Vernon grabbed the letter the owl had delivered, looked at it, before giving it to me to read.

'Read it out loud!' he growled at me.

I did as he asked. The letter did not contain birthday greetings.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine._

_As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spell work on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of__Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C)._

_We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy._

_Enjoy your holidays!_

_Yours sincerely,__  
><em>_Mafalda Hopkirk__  
><em>_IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE__  
>Ministry of Magic<em>

Once I had finished reading I gulped and looked fearfully at my uncle.

'Well, this changes everything,' Uncle Vernon said quietly, before grabbing me by the hair and leading me upstairs. I could have sworn that I heard Aunt Petunia said, 'Vernon,' in a shocked tine when he grabbed my hair.

'Let go!' I yelled, trying to get him out of my hair.

'You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school,' Uncle Vernon said with a mad gleam dancing in his eyes, as he dragged me towards my room. 'Forgot to mention it… slipped your mind, I daresay. Well, I've got news for you… I'm locking you up. You're never going back to that school… never… and if you try and magic yourself out – they'll expel you!'

He pushed me into my room and slammed the door shut.

At least he didn't lock me in the cupboard, I thought as I lay on my bed sulkingly. This had to be, without a doubt, my worst birthday ever.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

Sadly, Uncle Vernon was as bad as his word. The following morning, he paid a man to fit bars on my window while he added several locks to my door and fitted a cat flap so small amounts of food could be pushed inside three times a day. Five days I was locked in my room and I was only allowed out to visit the bathroom mornings and evenings, though when Dudley and Uncle Vernon weren't home, Aunt Petunia allowed me the freedom of the rest of the house and the freedom to have a proper meal. On the sixth morning, I was sitting glumly at my desk, looking out my window, when I noticed a black car pull into the Dursleys driveway, but it didn't hold my interest for long seeing as I didn't see who got out.

Probably another rich builder, I thought. How wrong I was.

Moments later, I heard Uncle Vernon yelling for someone to get out of his house. Someone marched past my bedroom, before they came back and began unlocking my door. The door then opened to reveal a very angry Uncle Severus. I coward slightly from him.

'Oh yes, Dursley. I can see that Harrietta isn't here!' Uncle Severus said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he took in my room. 'Harrietta, please pack your belongings while I talk to Vernon and Petunia.'

'All my school things, wand, broom and trunk are locked up under the stairs.' I said nervously.

'Really?' Uncle Severus said, eyes narrowing and looking down the hall where I assumed the Dursleys were. 'You boy, make yourself useful and help your cousin with her trunk!' he snapped at Dudley. I heard Dudley give a little squeal and him running down the stairs. 'Vernon, Petunia, I think we should have a few words.'

I walked out of my room and saw Uncle Vernon cowering slightly under Uncle Severus' cold gaze, before leading the way to the living room. I followed them downstairs to help Dudley with my belongings. Together, Dudley and I carried my trunk back upstairs with my broom balancing on top, and school belongings inside.

'Who is he?' Dudley asked me when we placed my trunk on my bed.

'He's my Uncle Severus,' I answered as I began to pack my clothes. 'My father's twin brother.'

'You never said you had another uncle. You only mentioned your dad's parents!'

'That's because I know my grandparents better than I know my uncle,' I replied, wondering why we were even having this conversation.

'If he is your family, why are you living with us? Didn't they want you?'

'Of course they wanted me!' I snapped. 'I had to live here for my safety. Hopefully, I won't have to live here much longer. Why do you care anyway?'

Dudley was about to answer when we heard Uncle Severus begin to yell.

'DON'T LIE TO ME, DURSLEY! WHAT YOU DID WAS UNACCEPTABLE! YOU NEVER TOLD HER ABOUT HER HERITAGE, ABOUT MAGIC, OR ABOUT HER PARENTS! YOU NEVER DID AS MY FATHER ASKED YOU TO DO IN THE LETTER HE LEFT! YOU DIDN'T RAISE HER AS THOUGH SHE WAS YOUR OWN, INSTEAD YOU MADE HER LIFE MISERABLE! THE ONLY POSITIVE THING IS THAT SHE HAS ESCAPED THE APPALLING DAMAGE YOU HAVE INFLICTED UPON YOUR SON!'

'We have never mistreated Dudley!' exclaimed Uncle Vernon.

Dudley and I were now standing at the living room door. Dudley was trying to figure out when he had ever been mistreated.

'I frankly don't care, but I do care about your mistreatment of our niece,' Uncle Severus said coldly.

'If you love her so much, why don't you raise her?' snapped Uncle Vernon.

'Believe me, I would if I could, but sadly she is safer living with you. However, she can stay with me and her grandparents at the end of summer. In the meantime, when she is living with you, you will TREAT HER LIKE SHE WAS YOUR OWN DAUGHTER, is that understood?'

'Are you threatening me?' demanded Uncle Vernon.

'Yes, I am. And you don't want to know what I'll do to you if you do mistreat Harrietta again.' Uncle Severus said calmly and I noticed that he was pleased to see my aunt and uncle pale, though he was also a little confused when he saw Dudley grabbed his bum tightly. 'Have you finished packing, Harrietta?'

'Yes, sir,' I said. 'My trunk is at the front door.'

'Right. Let's not waste any more time here,' said Uncle Severus, leaving the room. I quickly followed him. We carried my trunk, broom and Hedwig to his car.

Once my trunk and broom were secured in the boot and Hedwig safely in the back seat, Uncle Severus and I hopped into the car and left Privet Drive.

'Once we arrive at my place, I'll let your owl out,' Uncle Severus told me as he stopped at a red light, five minutes later.

'Hedwig will like that,' I said, glancing at him out the corner of my eyes. I had no idea how I was supposed to act around him.

'Dursley said that you used magic. Is that true?'

'No,' I said with a slight huff. 'It wasn't me. It was a house-elf.'

'A house-elf? Why would a house-elf be in the Dursleys house?' Uncle Severus said with a small frown on his handsome face.

'You think I'm lying, don't you?'

'No, I believe you. I just can't understand why one would come to see you. Did it say what it wanted?'

'Yes. Dobby came to warn me. To try and stop me from returning to Hogwarts,' I replied, looking out my window. 'Said that there was a plot to make terrible things happen.' I looked over at my uncle. He looked thoughtful and suspicious. 'Do you think he was lying?'

'Maybe. I cannot understand why his master would send him to warn you –'

'No one sent him. He said that his family didn't know he was gone.'

'I would not pay much heed to what the elf said.' Uncle Severus said firmly. 'A house-elf cannot leave without their master's permission. Probably someone play a joke.'

'What if Dobby was telling the truth?'

'I'll let Father know and we'll take necessary procedures, just in case. Now cast it from your mind, Harrietta. We don't want a repeat of last year.'

'Yes, sir.'

When we arrived at Uncle Severus' house, he withdrew his wand and trapped the large lock on Hedwig's cage. It unlocked itself and he opened the cage door. Hedwig took flight immediately. She was grateful to be free again.

'How come you never answered any of your grandparent's and my letters?' Uncle Severus asked as he rummaged through one of his cupboards.

'I never got them,' I replied, after recovering from my slight shock of learning that he tried to write to me. 'Dobby prevented all my mail to make me believe that I had no friends in the hope that I wouldn't want to return.'

'Someone's definitely trying really hard to make sure you don't return to Hogwarts,' Uncle Severus said as he took something from the cupboard. It looked like a jar of ashes. 'I advise that you stay out of trouble this year and watch your step.'

'Yes, professor.'

'Harrietta, you know that you don't have to call me "sir" or "professor" when we're in private with family.' Severus said gently.

'Yes, si – Uncle Severus.'

'When you feel more comfortable you can call me "Uncle Sev". The rest of the family calls me "Sev", so you might as well to.'

'In that case, you can call me "Harri". Harrietta is too long for my liking, plus I'm more likely to answer to Harri over Harrietta.' I said and started slightly when Uncle Severus chuckled. To be honest, I didn't even know that he could.

'Right, we're going to be Flooing to Acacia Palace…'

'Acacia what?' I asked. I was sure I had misheard.

'Palace. To meet up with your grandparents. I don't suppose you have Flooed somewhere before, have you?'

'No,' I said, wondering why they were calling their house a palace. It gave a new meaning to a man's home is his castle.

'It's very easy,' Uncle Severus said encouragingly, before telling me exactly how I was to Floo.

Once he finished he opened a jar of Floo powder, which I thought had just been ash, and held it out for me to take some. I nervously took some and went to his fireplace. Uncle Severus would bring my trunk and other belongings with him.

I scattered the powder into the fire. The fire felt like a warm breeze as I stepped into it. I opened my mouth and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash.

'Ac- Acacia Palace,' I choked

It felt as though I was being sucked down a giant drain. I seemed to be spinning very fast - the roaring in my ears was deafening – I tried to keep my eyes open but the whirl of green flames made me feel sick - something hard knocked my elbow and I tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning - now it felt as though cold hands were slapping my face – I wished it would stop, and then I fell, face forward, onto cold. Dizzy and bruised, covered in soot, I got gingerly to my feet and looked around.

I was in a large, well-furnished dining hall, roughly the same size as the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Groaning, I climbed unsteadily to my feet and it was then that I realised that I wasn't alone. There was roughly twenty other people in the hall, wearing grey dresses and suits. They stopped everything they were doing, – they had all been cleaning – stared at me and whispered quietly to each other.

'Who is she?'

'You don't think that's Harrietta?'

'I just cleaned the floor!'

I nervously looked around, wondering if I was at Acacia Palace and what I should do.

'Um, sorry. I guess I messed up my Floo travelling,' I muttered to the group of staring servants. I gathered that I was at the wrong place. This was definitely a castle I was at, not a house.

'no, you did fine. I just forgot to tell you which fireplace to come out of,' Uncle Severus said, walking into the hall, followed closely by my grandparents.

'Wait! This is Acacia Palace? It is an actual palace!' I gasped.

'Of course. Where'd you think we were going?' Uncle Severus asked as Grandmother embraced me.

'A house. I thought Acacia Palace was just a fancy name!' I said, now embracing Grandfather.

'No, this is the home of your ancestors.' Grandfather smiled, before frowning slightly. 'Have you lost weight?'

'Probably,' I muttered.

'It wouldn't surprise me if she has. The Dursleys were starving her and had her locked up like a prisoner.' Uncle Severus said darkly. 'But don't worry, I had words with them.'

'You threatened them, didn't you?' Minerva asked tiredly, though her eyes spoke how angry she was about the Dursleys inhuman behaviours towards her granddaughter.

'I don't threaten… I persuade,' Uncle Severus said innocently.

'Not to change the subject or anything, but why did my ancestors have a palace?' I asked, looking around and trying to ignore the staring servants. It then clicked. 'I'm a princess, aren't I? That's why Dobby and Firenze referred to me as "princess", isn't it? I am such an idiot! I can't believe I thought it meant something else.'

'You're not an idiot,' said Grandfather. 'But yes, you are a princess. You are currently Severus' heir. You will inherit the throne if anything were to happen to him.' said Grandfather.

I wasn't thrilled about becoming a queen, so I hoped that Uncle Severus would have a kid to let me off the hook.

'Come on, we'll give you a tour,' Grandmother said calmly.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

The summer holidays had finally arrived when I stayed at Acacia Palace and it became my true home. I felt more at home there than I did at Hogwarts.

The first week there I sat catching up on my homework, which didn't take me very long seeing as my family were more than willing to help me and it was an added bonus that they were all teachers, two of which actually set me the homework.

Once my homework as completed, I focused on settling into my new room and getting to know my family more. Surprisingly, it was Uncle Severus that I became the most attached to. I would sit and watch him work on his potions, chatting away and he would patiently listen to me. He even let me help him with a few. During which time I learnt how talented my uncle really was when it came to potion making. He rarely used potion recipes and when he did, he didn't follow them exactly. He did different short cuts and tricks. He also rarely measured potion ingredients out. He was like a professional chief you saw on television. When I told him this, he only laughed.

I also ended up meeting my great-grandmother, Rhiannon, during the holidays, much to Uncle Severus' dismay as he found out over breakfast.

'Mother will be back from Malcolm's by lunch today,' Grandmother informed Grandfather as Uncle Severus took a sip of orange juice.

'Please tell me you are joking, Mother,' Uncle Severus said, choking slightly. 'I thought Grandmother was going to be at Uncle Malcolm's 'till the end of September!'

'She decided to come back early, since she saw that Harri was here,' replied Minerva. 'And no, I'm not covering for you while you run away and hide from her. Besides, I'm sure she won't try anything. She'll be much too interested in Harri.'

'You poor child,' Uncle Severus said seriously to me.

'Should I be worried?' I asked nervously.

'Yes,' said Uncle Severus, while my grandparents said, 'No.'

I blinked.

'Ignore Sev, Harri,' Grandfather said comfortingly. 'Your Gran's just going to want to get to know you.'

'And dress you up as a porcelain doll,' Uncle Severus added. 'Not to mention try and turn you into a polite, young lady with perfect posture and manners.'

'Enough, Severus. Stop trying to scare her away,' Grandmother said firmly.

'She'll thank me for scaring her away…'

And so I would have if I had of know what Gran was truly like. At noon, I sat nervously next to Uncle Severus, on the couch, in the lounge room, waiting for Gran's arrival. She would be arriving by Floo. Uncle Severus seemed to be sitting calmly, but his eyes said over wise. They were suspicious and wary. Grandmother and Grandfather on the other hand, were perfectly calm.

The green flames suddenly appeared in the fireplace announced Gran's arrival and I was shocked when a pretty, light brown-haired witch stepped out of the fire. My grandparents were mildly surprised, while Uncle Severus groaned. I looked questioningly at him, but he didn't look at me. He seemed to be preparing himself for something.

The fireplace glowed brightly again and a frail looking witch stepped out of the fireplace. I knew this must be my great-grandmother. Grandmother looked nothing like her mother, so I guessed she must have taken after my great-grandfather.

'Afternoon, Mother!' Grandmother greeted, stepping forward and gently embraced her mother.

'Good afternoon, my dear daughter. And you to, Albus.' Gran said, letting go of Grandmother and embracing Grandfather.

'It's a pleasure to see you again, Mother.' Grandfather said smiling, while Grandmother made an angry gesture at Uncle Severus.

Uncle Severus groaning and whispered to me, 'This is why you don't live with your parents when you are older.'

I giggled as he walked over to greet his grandmother.

'Grandmother,' Uncle Severus greeted stiffly.

'Why is it that you always sound as though you are doing something painful when you greet me?' Gran demanded as she embraced her grandson. 'You use to enjoy seeing me when you were a boy.'

'That's because back then I had nothing to worry about,' Uncle Severus replied with a glance at the pretty witch. 'Is this one of your friends?'

'Yes, this is Stacy. Stacy, this is Severus. My youngest grandson.'

'So this is the famous Severus. I've heard a lot about you.' Stacy told Severus, looking him up and down.

'I'm sure you have,' Uncle Severus said warily.

'I'm sure you two have a lot in common. Why don't you show Stacy to her room, Sev? That way you two can get to know each other better.' Gran said, looking between the two.

'Sure. This way, Stacy,' Uncle Severus said, leading Stacy out of the room.

'Don't they look wonderful together?' Gran exclaimed happily, the moment Uncle Severus and Stacy were out of the room.

I didn't agree. I didn't like Stacy and I didn't want her with _my_ Uncle Severus. I was jealous. I had gotten use to having him all to myself over the past few weeks and I wasn't ready to share him yet.

Gran then caught sight of me.

'Harrietta? Oh, look at you! Look how big you have gotten!' Gran exclaimed, walking towards me before embracing me tightly. When she let go, she began to look me up and down. I moved nervously.

'I'm taking her shopping!' Gran said suddenly. 'She needs some new clothes. Clothes fit for a young girl her age.'

'But Mother, you just got here!' Grandmother argued.

'So? I'm taking her shopping.' Gran said stubbornly. 'Come dear,' she added to me, taking me by the hand and leading me towards the fireplace.

Uncle Severus was right. I should have hid.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 23 March 2012  
><strong>Updated:<br>Beta:**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED. FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	9. And So Begins Year Two

**CHAPTER NINE: AND SO BEGINS YEAR TWO**

The moment I arrived home from shopping with Gran, I immediately headed to Uncle Severus' room while a couple of maids took my new dresses to my room. Gran went to check on Stacy.

'Come in,' Uncle Severus said warily when I knocked on his bedroom door. 'Oh, it's you, Har – what on earth are you wearing?' he asked when I entered the room. He took one look at the outfit I was wearing and tried not to laugh.

Gran made me come home in one of my new dresses. It was a bright purple dress covered with frills and bows. She even made me get my hair done. It was all curly and up in a high bun with a lot of ribbon holding it there.

'It's not funny!' I grumbled, sitting next to him on his bed. 'Can you help me?' I added as I tried to get the ribbons out of my hair. 'I never knew that shopping was so painful!'

'Grandmother can make anything painful,' Uncle Severus laughed as he began to remove the ribbons holding my hair up. 'Let me guess, all the clothes you got are like what you are wearing.'

'Yes,' I grumbled. 'She didn't even care that I find them hideous! Or that I feel uncomfortable in them!'

'Tell your grandmother and she'll talk to your gran,' Uncle Severus said wisely. 'However, don't get your hopes up. Certain things my mother cannot talk Grandmother out of… like trying to set me up with someone,' he added bitterly.

At that moment, there was a loud knock at the door.

'Come in,' Uncle Severus said warily. He groaned slightly when he saw who it was. 'Something wrong, Grandmother?'

'Oh, do not pretend to be so innocent, Severus,' Gran said coldly. 'You know exactly what's wrong. Why don't you like Stacy? She's a nice girl. If you would just give her a chance –'

'No, Grandmother. You have to stop bringing girls here trying to get me to fall in love. I'm not interested.' Uncle Severus was beginning to lose his temper.

Not wanting to be around, I quickly left the room.

Over breakfast the next day, Grandfather handed me my Hogwarts letter. It was the same as last year's letter with the only difference being the school list of books and belongings.

'Do you want to go and pick up your belongings on Wednesday?' Uncle Severus asked me. 'I have to go to Diagon Alley to pick up some more potion stock.'

'Sure,' I said enthusiastically.

Sadly, we had to Floo to Diagon Alley and I proved to be great entertainment for the other shoppers as I tumbled ungracefully out of the fireplace.

We first went to Gringotts to withdraw some gold out of my parents' vaults, which, of course, was now mine. We then picked up some potion ingredients, new robes – I had to be Harry Potter to get them done – and all my other school supplies, minus my books, before we went to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour for ice cream. After we finished out ice creams, we went and browsed Quality Quidditch Supplies. Our last stop was at Flourish and Blotts, to pick up my school books.

When we arrived at Flourish and Blotts, we noticed a large, excited crowd gathered outside. The crowd was mostly made up of witches of different ages.

'What's going on?' I asked Uncle Severus.

'No idea – oh, that's why.' Uncle Severus stood glaring at a sign.

GILDEROY LOCKHART

Will be signing copies of his autobiography

MAGICAL ME

Today 12:30 P.m. to 4:30 P.m.

'Gilderoy Lockhart?' Isn't he the guy who wrote most of my booklist?' I questioned.

'Unfortunately,' Uncle Severus sighed, before leading the way inside. 'Might as well see what the idiot has to say.'

Many witches turned to glare at him, but he just ignored them.

We somehow managed to get a spot right up front.

'Why don't you like him?' I asked Uncle Severus as he glared at a nearby poster of Lockhart. 'Are you jealous of him or something?'

'Jealous? Of him? There's no way I'd be jealous of that idiot,' replied a slightly outraged Uncle Severus, ignoring more glares.

'Then what?'

'I just don't like him. Something about him makes me want to be creative with my wand.'

Someone snorted next to me. I looked up and saw that I was standing next to Fred Weasley. He had heard Uncle Severus' comment. I then looked around and saw that Ron, Percy, George and their little sister Ginny were also present. I then spotted Mrs Weasley and Hermione. It felt weird being so close to them all with them not knowing who I was.

A few minutes later, Lockhart appeared and the excitement level grew. I noticed Fred and George rolled their eyes. I couldn't help but join them. I couldn't see anything impressive about him. I guessed they all liked him because of his good looks.

A little reporter made his way through the crowd with a camera in hand. He roughly barged between Uncle Severus and I, which resulted in me falling into Fred.

'Sorry little girl, but this is for the Daily Prophet,' said the reporter.

'Big deal!' I snapped at him, before apologising to Fred. Lockhart heard my comment.

'Of course you wouldn't find it a big deal, young lady,' Lockhart said, smiling over at me. 'And I thank you for giving me the perfect moment to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!'

'Here it comes,' Uncle Severus groaned.

'While this young lady only stepped in to purchase her Hogwarts books, she clearly knew, from her little comment before, that she and her schoolmates would be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have the great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September; I will be taking up the post of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! So a photo in the Daily Prophet is definitely not a big deal to them.'

The crowd cheered and clapped, while I gasped at my uncle. He didn't look very happy about having Lockhart as a co-worker.

'Let's buy your books and get out of here,' Uncle Severus whispered in my ear as Lockhart began to sign copies of his book _Magical Me_.

Together we weaved in and out of the crowd, picking up my school books. We then headed to the counter to pay for them. While Uncle Severus was paying for the books, I noticed the Weasleys, minus Mrs Weasley, and Hermione talking to none other than Draco Malfoy and a man I assumed to be Draco's father.

'Is that Malfoy's father?' I asked Uncle Severus as he handed me a book bag.

'Yes. That's Lucius Malfoy,' muttered Severus as Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy began to fight… Muggle style. 'Let's get out of here. The Weasley and Malfoy conflicts aren't one you want to be caught up in.'

Uncle Severus led me out of the shop and to a fireplace to Floo home.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

The school holidays were soon at an end. I had mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I was really excited to be returning to Hogwarts to see my friends, play Quidditch and learn more about the magical world. However, I was also upset. I was upset because I would be leaving Acacia Palace and that I would spend the next year pretending that this summer hadn't happened and that the fact that my family was alive had to remain secret, as did my true identity.

'I'll miss you, Harrietta,' Gran said as she hugged me goodbye.

'I'll miss you too, Gran.'

'We'll see you at Hogwarts, Harri,' Grandfather said as he embraced me. 'Enjoy the train ride.'

'Will do,' I said before Flooing to Uncle Severus' house.

From Uncle Severus' house, my uncle drove me to King Cross Station where he dropped me off, before heading back home to prepare for the upcoming year.

As I headed to platform nine and three quarters, I noticed a familiar bunch of red-heads in front of me. I quickly hurried to catch up.

'Hey, Ron! Fred! George!' I yelled out.

The Weasleys all stopped and looked around.

'Harry! How are you, mate?' Ron asked when he saw who it was.

'I fine, what about you guys?' I said, stopping next to them.

'Same as always,' Ron laughed. 'Oh, Harry, this is my father. Dad, this is Harry.'

'It's nice to meet you, Mr Weasley,' I said politely.

'You too, Harry. Ron's told us all about you of course.' Mr Weasley said, shaking my hand.

'It's good to see you again, Harry,' Mrs Weasley said, embracing me in a hug.

'Um, shouldn't we be heading to Platform Nine and Three Quarters?' Percy inquired. 'We're running late.'

'You're right, Percy, dear,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Come on everyone.'

Together we all headed toward the platform.

'Percy first,' said Mrs Weasley, when we arrived at the entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. She looked nervously at the clock overhead, which showed we had only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier.

Percy strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr Weasley went next; Fred and George followed.

'I'll take Ginny and you two come right after us,' Mrs Weasley told Ron and me, grabbing Ginny's hand and setting off. In the blink of an eye they were gone.

'Let's go together, we've only got a minute,' Ron said to me.

I quickly made sure that Hedwig's cage was safely wedged on top of my trunk and wheeled my trolley around to face the barrier. I felt perfectly confident; this wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as using Floo powder. Ron and I both bent low over the handles of our trolleys and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, we broke into a run and CRASH.

Both trolleys hit the barrier and bounced backward; Ron's trunk fell off with a loud thump, I was knocked off my feet, and Hedwig's cage bounced onto the shiny floor, and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly; people all around us stared and a guard nearby yelled, 'What in blazes d'you think you're doing?'

'Lost control of the trolley,' I gasped, clutching my ribs as I got up. Ron ran to pick up Hedwig, who was causing such a scene that there was a lot of muttering about cruelty to animals from the surrounding crowd.

'Why can't we get through?' I hissed to Ron.

'I dunno –'

Ron looked wildly around. A dozen curious people were still watching us.

'We're going to miss the train,' Ron whispered. 'I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself –'

I looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. Ten seconds... nine seconds...

I wheeled my trolley forward cautiously until it was right against the barrier and pushed with all my might. The metal remained solid.

Three seconds… two seconds... one second...

'It's gone,' said Ron, sounding stunned. 'The train's left. What if Mum and Dad can't get back through to us? Have you got any Muggle money?'

I shook my head.

'Nope. Only wizard money.'

Ron pressed his ear to the cold barrier.

'Can't hear anything,' he said tensely. I gave him a look that said, 'As if you would hear anything,' but he didn't notice as he said, 'What're we going to do? I don't know how long it'll take Mum and Dad to get back to us.'

We looked around. People were still watching us, mainly because of Hedwig's continuing screeches.

'I think we'd better go and wait somewhere,' I said. 'We're attracting too much atten –'

'Harry!' said Ron, his eyes gleaming. 'The car!'

'The what?'

'We can fly the car to Hogwarts!'

'Fly the car?' I was completely nonplussed.

'Oh yeah, you wouldn't know. My dad modified a Ford Angelia which can fly and turn invisible.'

'I don't know, Ron…'

'We're stuck, right? And we've got to get to school, haven't we? And even under-age wizards are allowed to use magic if it's a real emergency, section nineteen or something of the Restriction of Thingy…'

'I don't think this counts as a real emergence,' I said uncertainly.

'Course it does,' said Ron, wheeling his trolley around to face the exit. 'C'mon, let's go, if we hurry we'll be able to follow the Hogwarts Express.'

I hesitated before I followed Ron off through the crowd of curious Muggles, out of the station and onto a side road where an old, blue, Ford Anglia was parked. Ron unlocked the cavernous trunk with a series of taps from his wand. We then heaved out luggage back in, put Hedwig on the back seat, and got into the front.

'Check that no one's watching,' said Ron, starting the ignition with another tap of his wand. I stuck my head out of the window: traffic was rumbling along the main road ahead, but our street was empty.

'Okay,' I said.

Ron pressed a tiny silver button on the dashboard. The car around them vanished - and so did we. I could feel the seat vibrating beneath my, hear the engine, feel my hands on my knees and my glasses on my nose, but for all I could see, I had become a pair of eyeballs, floating a few feet above the ground in a dingy street full of parked cars.

'Let's go,' said Ron's voice from my right.

The ground and the dirty buildings on either side fell away, dropping out of sight as the car rose; in seconds, the whole of London , smoky and glittering, was below them.

Then there was a popping noise and the car, Ron, and I reappeared.

'Uh-oh,' said Ron, jabbing at the Invisibility Booster. 'It's faulty –'

The car vanished again before it flickered back again.

'Hold on!' Ron yelled, and he slammed his foot on the accelerator; we shot straight into the low, woolly clouds and everything turned dull and foggy.

'Now what?' I said, blinking at the solid mass of cloud pressing in on us from all sides.

'We need to see the train to know what direction to go in,' said Ron.

'Dip back down again - quickly –'

We dropped back beneath the clouds and twisted around in our seats, squinting at the ground.

'I can see it!' I yelled. 'Right ahead - there!'

The Hogwarts Express was streaking along below us like a scarlet snake.

'Due north,' said Ron, checking the compass on the dashboard. 'Okay, we'll just have to check on it every half hour or so - hold on…'

We shot back up through the clouds. A minute later, we burst out into a blaze of sunlight.

As I looked around, I felt as though I had entered a different world. The wheels of the car skimmed the sea of fluffy cloud, the sky a bright, endless blue under the blinding white sun. It was actually rather peaceful… like something out of a dream.

'Now all we've got to worry about are airplanes,' said Ron.

We looked at each other and just started to laughing, for no reason. For a long time, we couldn't stop.

It was as though we had been plunged into a fabulous dream.

This, I thought gazing out my window at my beautiful surroundings, is surely the only way to travel - past swirls and turrets of snowy cloud, in a car full of hot, bright sunlight, with a fat pack of toffees in the glove compartment, and the prospect of seeing Fred's and George's jealous faces when we landed smoothly and spectacularly on the sweeping lawn in front of Hogwarts castle.

We made sure to make regular checks on the train as we flew farther and farther north, each dip beneath the clouds showing us a different view. London was soon far behind us, replaced by neat green fields that gave way in turn to wide, purplish moors, a great city alive with cars like multi-coloured ants, villages with tiny toy churches.

Several uneventful hours later, however, I had to admit that some of the fun was wearing off.

The toffees had made us extremely thirsty – Ron especially since he had more than me - and we had nothing to drink. Ron and I had pulled off our sweaters, but my T-shirt was sticking to the back of my seat and my glasses kept sliding down to the end of my sweaty nose.

I had stopped noticing the fantastic cloud shapes now and was thinking longingly of the train miles below, where I could buy ice-cold pumpkin juice from a trolley pushed by a plump witch. Why hadn't we been able to get onto platform nine and three-quarters?

'Can't be much further, can it?' Ron croaked hours later as the sun started to sink into the floor of cloud, staining it a deep pink. 'Ready for another check on the train?'

It was still right below us, winding its way past a snow-capped mountain. It was much darker beneath the canopy of clouds.

Ron put his foot on the accelerator and drove us upward again, but as he did so, the engine began to whine.

Ron and I exchanged nervous glances.

'What was that?' I asked nervously.

'It's probably just tired,' said Ron. 'It's never been this far before...'

We both tried to pretend that we couldn't hear the whining growing louder and louder as the sky became steadily darker. Stars were blossoming in the blackness. I ended up pulling my sweater back on, trying to ignore the way the windshield wipers were now waving feebly, as though in protest.

'Not far,' said Ron, and I knew that he was talking to the car, 'not far now,' and he patted the dashboard nervously.

When we flew back beneath the clouds a little while later, we had to squint – well, Ron did - through the darkness for a landmark we knew.

'There!' I shouted, making Ron and Hedwig jump. 'Straight ahead!'

Silhouetted on the dark horizon, high on the cliff over the lake stood the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts castle, but the car had begun to shudder and was losing speed.

'Come on,' Ron coaxed, giving the steering wheel a little shake, 'nearly there, come on –'

The engine groaned. Narrow jets of steam were issuing from under the hood. The car gave a nasty wobble as we flew across the lake. Glancing out of my window, I saw the smooth, black, glassy surface of the water, a mile below.

Ron's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The car wobbled again.

'Come on,' Ron muttered.

We were over the lake - the castle was right ahead – Ron put his foot down.

There was a loud clunk, a splutter, and the engine died completely.

'Uh-oh,' said Ron, into the silence, while I closed my eyes. I know knew that I should have gone with my gut feeling right at the beginning and not hopped into the car… especially with a thirteen year old driving it.

The nose of the car dropped. We were falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the solid castle wall.

I braced myself for the impact of the car crashing into the castle wall while Ron yelled, 'Noooooo!' while swinging the steering wheel around; we missed the dark stone wall by inches as the car turned in a great arc, soaring over the dark greenhouses, then the vegetable patch, and then out over the black lawns, losing altitude all the time.

Ron let go of the steering wheel completely and pulled his wand out of his back pocket.

'What are you doing?' I screamed.

Ron ignored me and began yelling as he continuously whacked the dashboard and windshield

'STOP! STOP!' he yelled, but nothing happened. We were still plummeting, the ground flying up toward them.

'MIND THAT TREE!' I bellowed, lunging for the steering wheel, but too late.

CRUNCH.

With an ear-splitting bang of metal on wood, we hit the thick tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was billowing from under the crumpled hood; Hedwig was shrieking in terror; a golf ball-size lump was throbbing on my head where I had hit the windshield; and to my right, Ron let out a low, despairing groan.

'Are you okay?' I asked urgently, quickly looking over at him.

'My wand,' said Ron, in a shaky voice. 'Look at my wand –'

It had snapped, almost in two; the tip was dangling limply, held on by a few splinters.

'That's what you are worried about?' I said, unable to believe what I was hearing. 'We were almost killed and you are concerned about your wand? Something that can easily be fixed up at the school? You should be gratefully that it's not your neck!'

At that very moment, something hit his side of the car with the force of a charging bull, sending me lurching sideways into Ron, just as an equally heavy blow hit the roof.

'What's happen -?'

Ron gasped, staring through the windshield, and I looked around just in time to see a branch as thick as a python smash into it. The tree we had hit was attacking us. Its trunk was bent almost double, and its gnarled boughs were pummelling every inch of the car it could reach.

'Oh no,' I said, paling dramatically.

'Aaargh!' Ron yelled as another twisted limb punched a large dent into his door; the windshield was now trembling under a hail of blows from knuckle-like twigs and a branch as thick as a battering ram was pounding furiously on the roof, which seemed to be caving in -

'Run for it!' Ron shouted, throwing his full weight against his door, but next second he had been knocked backward into my lap by a vicious uppercut from another branch.

'We're done for!' he moaned as the ceiling sagged, but suddenly the floor of the car was vibrating - the engine had restarted.

'Reverse!' I yelled, and the car shot backward; the tree was still trying to hit us and we could hear its roots creaking as it almost ripped itself up, lashing out at us as we sped out of reach.

'That,' Ron panted, 'was close. Well done, car –'

The car, however, had reached the end of its tether. With two sharp clunks, the doors flew open and I felt my seat tip sideways: Next thing I knew I was sprawled on the damp, cold ground. Loud thuds told me that the car was ejecting our luggage from the trunk; Hedwig's cage flew through the air and burst open; she rose out of it with an angry screech and sped off toward the castle without a backward look, while I looked worriedly after her.

Then, dented, scratched, and steaming, the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.

'Come back!' Ron yelled as he ran after it, while I fixed up my luggage. 'Dad'll kill me!'

But the car disappeared from view with one last snort from its exhaust.

'Can you believe our luck?' Ron said miserably as he walked back to me where I was tending to a terrified Scabbers, Ron's pet rat. 'Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to get one that hits back.'

He glanced over his shoulder at the ancient tree, which was still flailing its branches threateningly.

'Come on,' I said wearily, 'we'd better get up to the school...'

It wasn't at all the triumphant arrival we had pictured. Stiff, cold, and bruised, we seized the ends of our trunks and began dragging them up the grassy slope, toward the great oak front doors.

'I think the feast's already started,' Ron said, dropping his trunk at the foot of the front steps and crossing quietly to look through a brightly lit window. 'Hey - Harry - come and look - it's the Sorting!'

Sighing, I went over and joined Ron at the window, where we both peered in at the Great Hall. Innumerable candles were hovering in mid-air over four long, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling, which always mirrored the sky outside, sparkled with stars. However, we were more interested in the long line of scared-looking first years filing into the Hall. Ginny was among them, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley hair.

Meanwhile, Grandmother was placing the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers.

My eyes wandered past the Sorting to where Grandfather sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along, I saw Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in robes of aquamarine. And there at the end was Hagrid, huge and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet.

'Hang on...' I muttered to Ron. 'There's an empty chair at the staff table... Where's Un - Snape?'

'Maybe he's ill!' Ron said hopefully.

'Maybe,' I said disbelievingly. Uncle Severus didn't look sick when I last saw him that morning.

'Or he might have been sacked!' Ron said enthusiastically. 'I mean, everyone hates him –'

'Or maybe,' said a very cold voice right behind us, 'he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train.'

I spun around. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze stood Uncle Severus, disguised as a thin man with sallow skin, a hooked nose, and greasy, shoulder-length black hair.

'Follow me,' said Uncle Severus.

Not daring even to look at each other, Ron and I followed Uncle Severus up the steps into the vast, echoing entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches. A delicious smell of food was wafting from the Great Hall, but my uncle led us away from the warmth and light, down a narrow stone staircase that led into the dungeons.

'In!' he said, opening a door halfway down the cold passageway and pointing.

We entered Uncle Severus' office, shivering. The shadowy walls were lined with shelves of large glass jars, in which floated all manner of revolting things I didn't really want to know the name of at the moment. The fireplace was dark and empty. Uncle Severus closed the door and turned to look at us.

'So,' he said softly, 'the train isn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we, boys?'

Uncle Severus' angry eyes met my ashamed green ones and I saw that his anger was only a result of him worrying about our safety, especially mine. I hung my head and remained silent.

'No, sir,' began Ron, 'it was the barrier at King's Cross, it –'

'Silence!' Uncle Severus said coldly. 'What have you done with the car?'

Ron gulped and I raised my head. How did he know about the car? Did he see us crash it into the tree? I soon got my answer when he unrolled today's issue of the Evening Prophet.

'You were seen,' he hissed, showing us the headline: FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. He began to read aloud: '"_Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower... at noon in Norfolk, Mrs Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing... Mr Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police_..." Six or seven Muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office?' he said, looking up at Ron.

Ron paled and I knew why. If anyone found out Mr Weasley had bewitched the car...

'I noticed, in my search of the school grounds, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow,' Uncle Severus went on.

'That tree did more damage to us than we –' Ron blurted out.

'Silence!' Uncle Severus snapped again. 'Most unfortunately, you are not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power. You will wait here.'

Ron and I stared at each other, white-faced. I felt extremely sick. If Uncle Severus had gone to fetch Grandmother, head of Gryffindor House, we were hardly any better off. Ten minutes later, Uncle Severus returned, and sure enough it was Grandmother who accompanied him. I had seen Grandmother angry on several occasions, but either I had forgotten just how thin her mouth could go, or I had never seen her this angry before.

She raised her wand the moment she entered; Ron flinched, but she merely pointed it at the empty fireplace, where flames suddenly erupted.

'Sit,' she said.

We both backed into chairs by the fire, not daring to disobey her.

'Explain,' she said, her glasses glinting threateningly.

Ron launched into the story, starting with the barrier at the station refusing to let us through.

'-so we had no choice, Professor, we couldn't get on the train.'

'Why didn't you send us a letter by owl? I believe you have an owl?' Grandmother said coldly to me.

I gaped at her. Now she said it, it seemed the obvious thing to have done.

'I - I didn't think –'

'That,' said Grandmother, 'is obvious.'

I began to turn red and lowered my head to try and hide my embarrassment.

There was a knock on the office door and Uncle Severus, who had been watching on emotionlessly, opened it. There stood Grandfather. My whole body went numb. As if it wasn't bad enough Grandmother and Uncle Severus showing how angry and worried they were, but know add Grandfather, who was looking unusually grave, well, I might as well have crawled into a hole and hid with shame.

Grandfather stared down his very crooked nose at us, and I suddenly found myself wishing Ron and I were still being beaten up by the Whomping Willow.

There was a long silence. Then Grandfather said, 'Please explain why you did this.'

It would have been better if he had shouted. I hated the disappointment in his voice. Just like with Grandmother and Uncle Severus, I was unable to look Grandfather in the eyes, and spoke instead to my knees. I told Dumbledore everything except that Mr Weasley owned the bewitched car, making it sound as though Ron and I had happened to find a flying car parked outside the station. I knew Grandfather would see through this at once, but he asked no questions about the car. When I had finished, he merely continued to peer at us through his spectacles.

'We'll go and get our stuff,' Ron said despairingly.

'What are you talking about, Weasley?' Grandmother barked.

'You're expelling us, aren't you?'

I looked quickly at all three members of my family. The thought of them expelling us hadn't occurred to me.

'Not today, Mr Weasley,' replied Grandfather. 'But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you.'

'Mr Weasley, if you would be so kind to wait outside, we wish to have a private word with Mr Potter,' said Grandmother, making me wince.

'Sure,' said Ron, shooting me a concerned and sympathetic look, before leaving the classroom. The moment he was out, Uncle Severus put up several privacy charms to prevent him eavesdropping. I sat there dreading what was to come.

'Harrietta, we are most disappointed in you,' Grandmother said sternly once the privacy charms were in place. 'What were you thinking? You could have been seriously injured or worst, killed!'

'I didn't mean any harm or to make you worry,' I said quietly, looking down at my hands. I couldn't bring myself to look at them and see the disappointment in their eyes. It was bad enough hearing it in their voices. 'I – well, I guess I sort of panicked and allowed myself to be talked into Ron's idea about the car –'

'So that's whose bright idea it was,' Uncle Severus said ominously.

'I know I what I did was stupid and I'm ready to face the consequences,' I said glumly.

'Every night you will have to go to Severus' quarters and study or do chores or something you don't want to do for a month,' Grandmother said firmly. 'And no going easy on her either, Severus,' she added warningly to her son.

'Yes, Mother,' Uncle Severus said.

'How am I meant to get to his chambers?' I asked suddenly. 'I mean, I think my friends will notice if I keep sneaking out.'

'Tell them you have extra potion lessons. They'll believe that seeing as your grade wasn't the best last year,' Uncle Severus suggested.

'That is an excellent idea,' said Grandfather. 'Now, I must go back to the feast. I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus, there's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample –'

Uncle Severus shot me a warning look as he allowed himself to be swept out of his office, leaving me alone with Grandmother, until Ron re-entered the privacy charm free classroom.

'You'd better get along to the hospital wing, Weasley, you're bleeding,' Grandmother said suddenly, noticing the cut above Ron's eye. He was lucky to have walked away with only a cut. Somehow I managed to walk away unscathed.

'Not much,' Ron said hastily, wiping the cut over his eye with his sleeve. 'Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being Sorted –'

'The Sorting Ceremony is over,' said Grandmother. 'Your sister is also in Gryffindor.'

'Oh, good!'

'And speaking of Gryffindor –' Grandmother said sharply, but I cut in: 'Gr - Professor, when we took the car, term hadn't started, so - so Gryffindor shouldn't really have points taken from it - should it?'

Grandmother gave me a piercing look, before smiling ever so slightly, making Ron's eyes widen slightly.

'I will not take any points from Gryffindor,' she said, and I let out a sigh of relief. 'But you will both get a detention.'

We nodded our head showing that we understood what she had said.

Grandmother raised her wand again and pointed it at Uncle Severus' desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets, and a jug of-iced pumpkin juice appeared with a pop.

'You will eat in here and then go straight up to your dormitory,' she said. 'I must also return to the feast.'

When the door had closed behind her, Ron let out a long, low whistle.

'I thought we'd had it,' he said, grabbing a sandwich.

'So did I,' I admitted, also grabbing a sandwich, but deep down I knew that they wouldn't send me away from Hogwarts. I knew that my family wanted me to remain close by after the years we spent apart.

'Can you believe our luck, though?' Ron said thickly through a mouthful of chicken and ham. 'Fred and George must've flown that car five or six times and no Muggle ever saw them.' He swallowed and took another huge bite. 'Why couldn't we get through the barrier?'

'I have no idea. What I do know is that we'll have to watch our step from now on,' I said, taking a grateful swig of pumpkin juice. 'Wish we could've gone up to the feast...'

'She didn't want us showing off,' Ron said wisely. 'Doesn't want people to think it's clever, arriving by flying car.'

'Good point.'

When we had eaten as many sandwiches as we could (the plate kept refilling itself and I had to wait for Ron to finish seeing as he ate a lot more than me) we rose and left the office, walking the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. The castle was quiet, which meant the feast was probably over. We walked past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armour, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until we eventually reached the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

'Password?' she said as we approached.

'Er –' I said.

Grandmother hadn't told us the new password and we hadn't met anyone on our way up to get the password. Fortunately, help came almost immediately. We heard hurrying feet behind us and turned to see Hermione dashing toward us.

'There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumours - someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car…'

'Well, we haven't been expelled,' I assured her.

'You're not telling me you did fly here?' said Hermione, sounding almost as severe as Grandmother.

'Skip the lecture,' Ron said impatiently, 'and tell us the new password.'

'It's "wattlebird",' Hermione said irritably, 'but that's not the point –'

Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping.

'What the - ?' I said as I entered the common room.

It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor House was still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for us to arrive. '

Brilliant!' yelled Lee. 'Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that one for years –'

'Good for you,' said a fifth year I had never spoken to; someone was patting me on the back as though I had just won a marathon; Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the crowd and said together, 'Why did you call us back?'

Ron was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but I could see one person who didn't look happy at all. Percy was visible over the heads of some excited first years, and he seemed to be trying to get near enough to start telling us off. I nudged Ron in the ribs and nodded in Percy's direction. Ron got the point at once.

'Got to get upstairs - bit tired,' he said, and the two of us started pushing our way toward the door on the other side of the room, which led to a spiral staircase and the dormitories.

'Night,' I called back to Hermione, who was wearing a scowl just like Percy's.

We managed to get to the other side of the common room, still having our backs slapped, and gained the peace of the staircase.

We hurried up it, right to the top, and at last reached the door of our old dormitory, which now had a sign on it saying SECOND YEARS. We entered the familiar, circular room, with its five four-posters hung with red velvet and its high, narrow windows. Our trunks had been brought up for us and stood at the ends of our beds.

Ron grinned guiltily at me.

'I know I shouldn't've enjoyed that or anything, but -'

The dormitory door flew open and in came the other second year Gryffindor boys, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom.

'Unbelievable!' beamed Seamus.

'Cool,' said Dean.

'Amazing,' said Neville, awestruck.

I couldn't help it. I just laughed at their reactions, before listening to Ron recount our little adventure to the other boys. Though I did notice he exaggerated a few details, which made me snort.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 24 June 2012  
><strong>Updated:<br>Beta:**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED. FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	10. The Joys of Lockhart

**CHAPTER TEN: THE JOYS OF LOCKHART**

I had assumed that by the next morning everyone would have forgotten about Ron's and my flying car entrance, but I was wrong. In fact, word had spread to the other three Houses. The moment Ron and I entered the Great Hall for breakfast, many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws ambushed us wanting to know all about or entrance. Thankfully, I managed to slip away leaving Ron at the mercy of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. He didn't care. He was happy with all the attention.

I went and sat across from Hermione who had her copy of _Voyages with Vampires_ by Gilderoy Lockhart propped open against a milk jug.

'And here I was think that last night's events had been forgotten,' I muttered to her.

'What do you expect?' Hermione replied stiffly. She still didn't approve of what Ron and I did. 'You're famous and you did something that no one has ever done before.'

I was saved from answering when Neville sat down next to me and said cheerfully, 'Morning.'

'Morning, Neville.' I smiled over at him.

'Post's did any minute – I think Gran's sending me a few things I forgot.'

He was right too. As I started to eat my porridge, a hundred or so owls swooped in, circling the hall and dropping parcels and letters into the chattering crowd. I didn't even bother looking up for I knew that I wouldn't be receiving any mail. Sure enough, Neville got a parcel of the belongings he had forgotten, which was shortly followed by something large and grey falling into Hermione's jug, spraying milk and feathers everywhere.

'What on earth -?' I carefully and gently helped the old owl onto the table. It was unconscious.

'Isn't that Ron's owl?' asked Hermione, looking at it closely.

'I have no idea,' I replied, taking a damp red envelope out of the owl's beak.

'Yes, I'm sure that's the Weasleys' owl, Errol.'

'Well, it's dressed to Ron… where is he anyway?' I looked around the Hall.

'He's still with his fan club,' Hermione said stiffly.

'Let's hope this letter's not important than,' I muttered putting It beside me and offering the now conscious Errol some toast. Out the corner of my eyes I could see Neville looking at the envelope as though it was going to explode.

'What's wrong with you, Neville?' I asked.

'Ron's been sent a Howler,' he replied nervously.

'What's a Howler?' I asked, but Neville didn't answer for Ron had just taken the other seat next to me.

'Ron, you have a letter,' I said, handing him the letter than watching as he paled dramatically.

I looked back at the envelope not understanding what the boys were so scared of.

'You'd better open it, Ron,' Neville said looking warily at the red envelope. 'I ignored one from my Gran once… it was horrible.'

'Ron nodded and with trembling fingers he pried open the wax seal, during which time Neville stuffed his fingers in his ears. If I didn't know any better, I would think that they were playing some sort of joke. However, I found out the reason to their strange behaviour the moment Ron opened the Howler. It was as though it had exploded. Mrs Wesley's voice echoed around the Hall. Everyone turned to look at Ron who was trying to disappear.

'RONALD WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOU WAIT UNTIL I GET HOLD OF YOU! I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK OF WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE! AND AFTER THE LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME! WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS! YOU AND HARRY COULD HAVE DIED –'

I went red and suddenly felt terribly guilty. While I hadn't had much to do with Ron's parents, they were still kind to me. Didn't they give me Christmas presents last year? And how did I repay them? I make them worry.

'- YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!'

The red envelope then burst into flames and became nothing more than a pile of ashes. The Hall was silent, everyone looking at Ron and me, though I tried to pretend as though nothing had happened, but I knew that my red face betrayed me.

Eventually, everyone went back to their breakfast and the Hall was its noisy self once more. It was then that Uncle Severus stopped behind us.

'Who would have thought that Weasley's Howler would kill two birds with one stone,' he said, before walking off.

'What does he mean by that?' asked Ron.

'He's saying that while it is punishing you, making you feel guilty for what you did, it has done the same thing to Harry,' Hermione explained, closing _Voyage with Vampires_. 'Though it's weird hearing him use a Muggle expression,' she added, thoughtfully. 'Most wizards don't.'

'Maybe he's a half-blood or Muggle-born,' said Ron, pushing away his breakfast. The letter had made him lose his appetite. 'I'm guessing half-blood seeing as there has never been a Muggle-born Slytherin.'

Grandmother then came around with our timetables. We had double Herbology with the Hufflepuff's first.

My friends and I left the castle together and headed for the greenhouses. As we approached the greenhouses, we saw that the rest of our class had already assembled outside waiting for Professor Sprout. We did not have to wait long. Moments later she came striding into view with her arms full of bandages, and a scowl on her face. Lockhart was accompanying her. I now understood the scowl.

'Why, hello there!' Lockhart greeted us cheerfully. Many students smiled and said hello back. 'I was just showing Professor Sprout the right way to tend to a Whomping Willow, but I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happened to have met several of these exotic plants in my travels.'

'Isn't he the modest one?' I muttered sardonically.

'Pity those plants didn't do him any damage,' he muttered back.

'Ron!' said Hermione, shocked, as Sprout ushered them into Greenhouse Three, which housed many interesting, yet dangerous plants.

Just as I was about to enter the greenhouse behind Rona and Hermione, Lockhart's hand shot out and grabbed my shoulder.

'Harry! I've wanted a word – you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Pomona?'

Sprout did mind, but before she could object, Lockhart led me away.

'Harry, Harry, Harry!' he said, arm around my shoulders, pinning me to his side, making me extremely uncomfortable. I was hoping that, by some miracle, Uncle Severus would come along and get me away from the new professor.

'Harry, let me give you some friendly advice,' he said, coming to a halt. 'You have plenty of time to peruse fame.'

'Sorry?' I had no idea what he was on about.

'It's alright, Harry… I understand,' Lockhart said, smiling down at my bewildered face, 'but you can't start flying cars to try and get yourself noticed. You just calm down, alright? There's plenty of time for all that when you're older.'

I gave him a disbelieving look, which he misinterpreted.

'Yes, I know what you are thinking. "It's alright for him; he's an internationally famous wizard already!" –'

_What do you think I am then?_ I thought bitterly.

'- but when I was twelve, I was just as much as a nobody as you are now,' he continued, making me raise my eyebrows. 'In fact, I'd say I was even more of a nobody.'

'You don't say,' I muttered bitterly. Uncle Severus had told me that Lockhart had been one of the most unpopular kids at school. He was worst at school than Neville. He wasn't as good-looking either.

'I mean, a few people have heard of you with all that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,' Lockhart continued, oblivious to my comment. 'I know it's not as good as winning _Witch Weekly's_ Most Charming Smile Award five times in a row, as I have, but it's a start, Harry. It's a start.'

Lockhart winked at me and walked off, leaving me just standing there, staring after him disbelievingly. I now understood why Uncle Severus disliked him. When I remembered that I had to be Herbology, I headed back to Greenhouse Three and walked inside. The lesson was yet to begin. They were all waiting for me.

'Sorry,' I apologised to Sprout.

'I don't blame you, Potter,' replied Sprout. 'You're not the one that wanted to talk to him.'

'You got that right,' I muttered, taking my spot between a curious Ron and Hermione. I knew both of them were wondering why I was in a foul mood and why Lockhart wanted to see me.

'Right, today we will be re-potting Mandrake,' said Sprout, now that the entire class was accounted for. 'For here can tell me the properties of the Mandrake root?'

I didn't even blink when Hermione's hand went flying into the air. It didn't surprise me that Hermione's hand was the first and only hand to go into the air. In fact, nobody, including Sprout, looked surprised.

'Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative,' Hermione explained in a tone which made Uncle Severus wonder if she had in fact swallowed a textbook. 'It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state, but it's also quite dangerous. The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it.'

'Excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor,' said Sprout, while I looked down at the plants in front of us. What did Hermione mean by "cry"?

'But seeing as out Mandrakes are only seedling their cries won't kill you yet,' Sprout continued, 'however, they can knock you out for several hours. It is for this reason that I have given you each a pair of earmuffs. So… how do we re-pot them? Well, you grasp them firmly, and then pull it straight up. You then put him in the new pot and put some fertilizer around him to keep him warm.'

She then got us all to put on our earmuffs and gave us a demonstration. With the demonstration over, she put us into group of four. Ron, Hermione and I were joined by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy named Justin Finch-Fletchley, who briefly told us that he was a Muggle-born, before we were sent to work.

After Herbology the second year Gryffindor's had Transfiguration with Grandmother, which turned into a disaster for Ron. He had tried to fix his wand with some Spellotape he borrowed off Lee Jordan, but it didn't help. The wand was beyond replier. Throughout the lesson, it crackled and sparked, before issuing thick grey smoke, which smelt like rotten eggs. It was that bad, several people had to leave the room. Ron then ended up squashing his beetle and had to ask for another one. Grandmother wasn't pleased.

When the luck bell went, the class hurried left the smelly room, everyone except Ron and me.

'Stupid – useless – thing!' Ron growled, whacking his wand furiously on the desk.

'That's not going to help the situation,' I said as the wand started sounding like a firecracker. 'I don't understand why you don't write home and ask for a new one.'

'And get a Howler back?' Ron snapped. 'No thanks!'

'They're going to find out eventually,' I said patiently. 'I wouldn't be surprised if McGonagall writes to them.'

'I'll take my chances,' Ron grumbled as we headed for the Great Hall. 'I might tell them after Christmas or when I go home for the summer holidays. By then her anger should have subsided.'

'I just hope you know what you are doing.'

At lunch, Ron's mood didn't improve. It actually did the opposite, seeing as Hermione showed us all her perfect coat buttons she had produced in Transfiguration from the beetle.

'What have we got next?' I asked, quickly changing the subject before argument could occur.

'Defence Against the Dark Arts,' Hermione answered instantaneously.

'Why have you outlined our Defence lessons in little hearts?' Ron demanded, catching sight of Hermione's timetable.

Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she blushed furiously.

'Don't tell me you have a crush on Lockhart, Hermione!' I said, horrified.

She blushed even harder.

Shaking my head, I led the way outside into an overcast courtyard where Hermione sat there reading _Voyages with Vampires_ again, while Ron and I sat talking about Quidditch. During our conversation, my Valkyrie instincts notified me that I was being closely watched. I looked up and my eyes fell upon a very small, mousy haired, first year boy. He was staring at me transfixed, clutching an ordinary Muggle camera. The moment I sat there looking at him, he went bright red and walked towards me.

'Alright, Harry?' he asked breathlessly.

'I'm fine, thanks,' I replied. Ron turned his attention to the boy, only just realising that I hadn't heard a word he had said.

'Who are you?' he asked rudely.

'I'm – I'm Colin Creevey,' the boy replied. 'I'm in Gryffindor too!'

'And what do you want?'

'I was wondering if I could get a photo of you, Harry,' Colin said hopefully.

'Why?' I asked suspiciously. Why on earth would the boy want a photo of me?

'So I can prove that I've met you. I know all about you!'

'Have you been spying on me?' I demanded.

'No. I've just been told by other students that you are famous for surviving the Killing Curse and being You-Know-Who's downfall.'

'Oh.' What else would I say? The boy was acting as though I was a movie star or something.

'So can I have a picture? And can you then sign it?'

'You're giving out _signed photos_, Potter?'

Colin just had to say that as Draco was walking past, didn't he? But that wasn't the worst part. No, the worst part was that Lockhart also was walking passed as Malfoy expressed "sighed photos". Before I knew it, I was once more, clasped to Lockhart's side; only this time, I was burning with humiliation.

'Come on then, Mr Creevey,' said Lockhart, beaming down at Colin, 'a double portrait. You can't do much better than that, and we'll _both_ sign it for you.'

'Speak for yourself,' I grumbled as Colin took a photo. Moments later, the bell went telling them that it was time to go to afternoon classes.

I tried to follow my friends, and the crowd back inside, but Lockhart wouldn't let go off my shoulders.

'A word to the wise, Harry,' Lockhart said paternally as he led me to the Defence lesson. 'I covered up for you back there with young Creevey – if he was photographing me too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much. Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at his stage of your career isn't sensible. To be frank, it looks a tad bigheaded.'

'Then what's your excuse?' I asked rudely.

'Huh… you sounded just like Professor Snape then,' Lockhart said, not sounding too happy about my attitude. 'But you shouldn't view him as a role model, Harry. It won't get you far.'

Thankfully, we had arrived at the classroom and he let me go. I hurried inside and went and sat right at the back of the room, ignoring the empty seat next to Ron at the front of the room. Ron hurriedly joined me at the back, leaving Hermione up the front sitting next to Neville.

'You okay?' he asked.

'I'll be better when I'm far away from Lockhart!' I huffed. 'If he lectures me one more time about fame… I'll cure him!'

The class didn't improve my mood. Lockhart started the lesson with a test about _him_ before letting some Cornish pixies free in the classroom, leaving Ron, Hermione and I to catch them, while he and the rest of the class fled.

'Can you _believe_ him?' Ron said as we got the last pixie in the cage.

'He just wants to give us some hands on experience,' Hermione defeated instantly.

'_Hands on_?' I repeated, looking at her as though she was insane. 'Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing!'

'Nonsense! You've read his books; look at all the amazing things he's done!'

'Amazing, but unbelievable and unrealistic,' I replied as we left the now Cornish pixie free classroom. 'It's impossible for him to have done all those things. You cannot defeat a banshee just by smiling at it. Then there is his pretty little face and perfect hair. There is no way he could have tackled a werewolf or any of those creatures can still have a flawless skin! Not even a Valkyrie could do that!'

'What's a Valkyrie?' Ron asked blankly while Hermione tried to rack her brains for the term.

'Never mind. My point is that Lockhart's a fraud and one day everyone will see it. I just hoped that I'm around when he falls.'

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page: <strong>link on profile**  
>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 24 September 2012  
><strong>Updated:<strong> N/A**  
>Beta:<strong>

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED. FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	11. An Ancient Danger Returns

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: AN ANCIENT DANGER RETURNS**

When I thought that Lockhart would be the bulk of my problems during my second year, I was totally and utterly wrong. Instead, I would have to deal with an ancient enemy of Hogwarts that would end up revealing the darkest secrets of my family, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Before the first sense of danger occurred, I was rudely awoken by Oliver Wood, Gryffindor's Quidditch teams Keeper and Captain, telling me that it was time for Quidditch practice.

Grumbling at the time, it was the crack of dawn, I stumbled out of bed and headed down to the pitch. Inside the changing rooms, I found the rest of my team mates getting ready, though all of them were still half asleep. Wood seemed to be the only one who was wide awake. To make matters worse, he began the practice with a long and lengthy lecture on tactics. Most of the team was sleep, when he had finished.

'Right, does anyone have any questions?' Wood asked, looking around at his team mates.

'I have one,' George yawned. 'Why couldn't you have told us this yesterday when we were all awake?'

Wood was not impressed, but I had to agree with George. He could have at least waited until we were wide awake.

'Now, listen here, you lot,' he said, glaring at them all. 'We should have won the Quidditch cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately -owing to circumstances beyond our control – '

I moved guiltily in me seat, after all, it was my fault. The Quidditch match was timed to be two days after I went down the trapdoor to protect the Philosopher's. As a result, I had been unconscious for the final match. This meant Gryffindor had been a player short and had suffered their worst defeat in three hundred years.

'So this year, we train harder than ever before. Now, let's go and put our new theories into practice!' Wood shouted, seizing his broomstick and leading the way out of the locker rooms.

Grudgingly, the team followed. None of them knew how Wood could have so much energy so early, though, the sun was now up.

As I walked onto the field, I saw Ron and Hermione sitting in the stands. I had left Ron a note explaining where I was before I left the dormitory.

'Aren't you finished yet?' Ron asked incredulously.

'We haven't even started,' I replied. 'Wood's been teaching us new moves.'

I then mounted my Nimbus Two Thousand and kicked at the ground, soaring up into the cool morning air.

We had just started our practice when Fred noticed several people in green robes walking onto the field with broomsticks in their hands. He was quick to point this out to Wood and the rest of the team.

'I don't believe it!' Wood hissed outraged. 'I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today! We'll see about this!'

Wood shot toward the ground, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. Harry, Fred, and George followed.

'Flint!' Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. 'This is our practice time! We got up especially! You can clear off now!'

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, 'Plenty of room for all of us, Wood.'

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over, too. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man.

'But I booked the field!' Wood was positively spitting with rage. 'I booked it!'

'Ah,' said Flint, 'but I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape.'

He handed the note to Wood who read it aloud.

'"I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker." You've got a new Seeker?' said Wood, distracted. 'Where?'

From behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco.

'Malfoy?' I laughed. 'You can't be serious!'

'And what is that supposed to mean, Potter?' Draco snapped, his grey eyes narrowing.

'Just ignore, Potter, Draco,' Flint told Draco, putting a restraining hand on the younger boys shoulder. 'Besides, we've got something that will surely wipe the smile off his face.'

All seven Slytherins then held out their broomsticks. They were seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

'It's the very latest model. Only came out last month,' Flint said smugly when he saw the dread pass over the Gryffindor's teams faces. 'I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps -' he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives ' - sweeps the board with them, and we have Draco's father to thank for them.'

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say, except for me.

'So you've finally admitted that you need all the help you can get to beat us?' I said innocently. 'But I hate to inform you that talent is that wins games, not equipment.'

'But they sure help,' Katie muttered behind me.

The Slytherin team was glaring at me, except for Flint, who was looking out across the field.

'Oh, look,' he said, 'a field invasion.'

Ron and Hermione were crossing the grass to see what was going on.

'What's happening?' Ron asked me. 'Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?'

He was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

'I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley,' said Malfoy, smugly. 'Why else would I be wearing these robes? Besides, everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team.'

Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

'Good, aren't they? Perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them.'

The Slytherin team howled with laughter.

'At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in,' Hermione retorted, shutting the Slytherins up immediately. 'They got in on pure talent.'

'Nice one, Hermione,' I laughed.

'No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood,' Draco spat.

I blinked, having no idea what Malfoy had just called Hermione, but I knew that it must have been something disgusting by the looks on everyone's faces. While Hermione look hurt and upset, the Gryffindor team and Ron looked outraged.

Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, while ripped his wand out of his robes yelling, 'You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!' and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoy's face.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass. Hermione and I were instantly by his side with the Gryffindors right behind us.

'Ron, are you alright?' Hermione squealed.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave a massive belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap. It wasn't the only lot either. They just kept coming. I was silently thankful that I hadn't had any breakfast that morning, for I was sure that I would have brought it back up.

'We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest,' I said to Hermione, while the Slytherins roared with laughter in the back ground.

Hermione nodded and helped me pulled Ron to his feet, before hurrying him out of the stadium.

When we arrived at Hagrid's Hut, I knocked urgently on his door,

Hagrid appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was.

'Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me - come in, come in - thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again –'

'Lockhart was here?' I questioned as I helped Ron into the household.

'Unfortunately,' Hagrid grumbled. 'What's 'smatter with Ron?' he added.

'He tried to curse Malfoy when he called Hermione a – something I'm not repeating because I think it is a disgusting word,' I replied, looking cautiously at Hermione, who had tears in her eyes.

'He called me a Mudblood,' Hermione informed Hagrid.

'He did not!' Hagrid looked outraged.

'He did,' she said, before turning to me when she saw my bewildered expression. 'Mudblood is a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born, with non-magic parents… someone like me. It's not a term one hears in a civilised conversation.'

'And since when has Malfoy been civilised?' I growled. 'Where does he get off calling you that?'

'He's probably been taught from birth to treat Muggle-borns that way,' Ron grumbled before vomiting into the bucket Hagrid had just given him.

'What do you mean? Why would he be taught that?'

'You see, Harry, there are some wizards, like the Malfoys, who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood, because no one in their family has ever had an ancestor with non-magic blood.'

'That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard!' I laughed. 'Surely they have to have someone in the family that comes from a Muggle family. I mean, surely, in the beginning, they must have come from a Muggle family? Surely wizards didn't just appear out of thin air?'

'Not everyone sees things like you do, 'Arry,' Hagrid said quietly, 'though some of us do and it doesn't make any difference to us. Look at Neville! He's a pure-blood and struggles with the simplest of magic at times. Besides, they haven't invented a spell out Hermione can't do.'

Hermione went a brilliant shade of magenta.

'So what did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?' I asked, scratching Fang's ears.

'He was givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well,' Hagrid growled. 'Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle.'

'Hear, hear,' I said.

'I think you're being a bit unfair,' Hermione said at once, defending Lockhart again. 'Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job –'

'He was the on' man for the job. An' I mean the on' one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a year now. Anyway, Harry,' Hagrid said abruptly as though struck by a sudden thought. 'Gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?'

'I have not been giving out signed photos!' I exclaimed fiercely.

Hagrid started laughing.

'I'm on'y jokin',' he said, patting me kindly on the back and sending me face first into the table. 'I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. I told him that yer more famous than him without tryin'.'

'I bet he didn't like that,' I said, sitting up and rubbing my chin.

'Don' think he did,' said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. 'An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go.'

I started laughing as I imagined Lockhart's facial expression upon hearing this.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

During lunch, Grandmother ended up coming over to Ron and me, looking stern.

'Potter, Weasley,' she said, stopping behind us. 'You will both do your detentions this evening.'

'What're we doing, Professor?' Ron asked nervously as he suppressed a burp. He was still burping out slugs every now and then.

'You, Mr Weasley, will be polishing the silver in the trophy room supervised by Mr Filch,' she replied, 'without magic.'

Ron gulped. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the school and was extremely strict when it can to cleanliness.

'And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail,' she continued.

I was sure that I saw a hint of pity in Grandmother's eyes.

'Can't I go to the trophy room, too?' I asked hopefully.

'Potter, detentions aren't meant to be fun. They are there to punish students by giving them something they despise. Make sure you are where you're meant to be at eight o'clock sharp… both of you.'

She then walked away.

'Filch'll have me there all night,' Ron complained. 'No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning.'

'I'd swap anytime,' I informed him, hollowly. 'I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail... he'll be a nightmare… well more of a nightmare than usual.'

'I think the only one who would enjoy helping Lockhart answer his fan mail is Hermione and all of those other fan girls!' Ron said with a sigh of disgust.

'And why would that be a bad thing?' Hermione demanded. 'I would be able to hear firsthand how he achieved his triumphs and ask him questions.'

'Can't you just do that after class?' I asked in a bored tone.

'I might, actually,' Hermione said thoughtfully.

'Nice one,' Ron grumbled to me.

Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight, which found me dragging my feet along the second-floor corridor to Lockhart's office. I gritted my teeth and knocked.

The door flew open at once. Lockhart beamed down at me.

'Ah, here's the scallywag!' he said. 'Come in, Harry, come in –'

Shining brightly on the walls by the light of many candles were countless framed photographs of Lockhart. He had even signed a few of them. Another large pile lay on his desk.

'You can address the envelopes!' Lockhart informed me, as though this was a huge treat. 'This first one is to Gladys Gudgeon, bless her - huge fan of mine –'

I ended up tuning him out and focused on writing out all of Lockhart's fans' addresses. Some addresses I now knew off by heart as I had to write them out multiple times.

While the candles burned lower and lower, making the light dance over the many moving faces of Lockhart watching me, I moved my aching hand over what felt like the thousandth envelope, and just as I was beginning to wonder if it was time to leave yet… I heard it. I heard the ice-cold, bone chilling voice of the creature that would allow my family's darkest secret to be revealed to me.

'Come... come to me… Let me rip you... Let me tear you... Let me kill you…'

I jumped violently.

'What?' I exclaimed loudly.

'I know!' said Lockhart. 'It spent six solid months at the top of the bestseller list and broke all records!'

'What?' I looked at him bewildered, having no idea what he was talking about. 'No, I'm talking about that voice!'

'Voice? What voice?' It was now Lockhart's turn to be confused.

'Are you saying that you did not here it?'

Lockhart was looking at me in high astonishment.

'What are you talking about, Harry? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy? Great Scott - look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! I'd never have believed it - the time's flown, hasn't it?'

I didn't answer. I was straining his ears to hear the voice again, but there was no sound now except for Lockhart telling me that I mustn't expect a treat like this every time I got a detention. Feeling bemused, I left and headed back to the Gryffindor common room. However, when I was only a few corridors away from Lockhart's office, I heard it again.

'… rip… tear… kill…'

It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice I had heard in Lockhart's office. I staggered to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all my might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

'… so hungry for so long… kill… time to kill…'

The voice was growing fainter. I was sure it was moving away and downwards. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped me as I stared down at the stone floor; how could it be moving downwards? Was it a phantom, to whom stone foundations didn't matter?

After a slight hesitation, I began to run down a nearby staircase, to the second floor where I strained my ears, but I heard nothing. The voice was gone.

I desperately looked around for some sort of clue. My eyes fell upon a window and on the topmost pane, were around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.

_Odd, _I thought. I had never seen spiders act like that before.

I managed to tear my eyes away from the spiders and began to look around the corridor again. This time, my eyes found something shining on the wall ahead. I cautiously approached the foot-high words had been smeared on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches and reflecting in the puddle of water in the corridor.

The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware, it read.

The message had very little meaning to me, even though I felt as though it should have a great importance to me. However, what frightened me most was what was hanging next on the torch next to it. It was Mrs Norris, Filch's cat. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

This frightened me. I had no idea what kind of creature could have done this and I wasn't sure that I wanted to find out. It was for this reason I didn't move. If I had of been smart, I would have, and I wouldn't have been found by my peers as they left the Great Hall from their dinner. Before I knew it students were crashing into the passage from both ends. The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. I stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.

'"Enemies of the Heir, beware!" You'll be next, Mudbloods!'

It was Draco. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat before looking me straight in the eyes. His smile grew.

'What's going on here? What's going on?'

Attracted no doubt by Draco's shout, Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

'My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs Norris?' he shrieked.

And his popping eyes fell on me. I gulped.

'You!' he screeched. 'You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll –'

'Argus!'

Grandfather had arrived on the scene, followed by several teachers. In seconds, he had swept past me and detached Mrs Norris from the torch bracket.

'Come with me, Argus,' he said to Filch. 'You, too, Harri.'

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

'My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free –'

'Thank you, Gilderoy,' said Grandfather.

The silent crowd parted to let us pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Grandfather; as did Grandmother and Uncle Severus.

As we entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; I saw several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The sight would have been quite comical if she hadn't been so nervous.

The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Grandfather lay Mrs Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking.

Grandmother's eyes narrowed as she too looked closely at the cat. Uncle Severus, however, loomed behind them, half in shadow. He looked worried, and every now and then, he would look at me, before glaring at Lockhart who was hovering around all of them, making suggestions. Filch, however, was quietly sobbing in the background.

'She's not dead, Argus,' Grandfather informed them all softly once he had finished his investigation.

Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented that no one had been listening to, except his portraits.

'Not dead?' Filch choked out, looking through his fingers at Mrs Norris. 'But why's she all - all stiff and frozen?'

'She has been Petrified,' Grandfather explained.

'Ah! I thought so!' said Lockhart. 'It's too bad I wasn't there, I know just the counter-curse that would have saved her.'

'Yeah right. You'd probably get yourself petrified in the process,' Uncle Severus said, while trying not to laugh. I myself had trouble not laughing at his comment. Even Grandmother seemed amused. Grandfather, however, wasn't.

'Now's not the time, Severus,' he said firmly, before looking at Filch. 'I'm afraid that I cannot say how she was petrified.'

'Ask him!' Filch shrieked, turning his blotched and tearstained face towards me.

'No second year could have done this,' Uncle Severus drawled. 'It would take advance Dark Magic. Potter may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Did he not just finish his detention with you, Lockhart?'

'Indeed he did,' Lockhart confirmed.

'My cat has been Petrified!' Filch shrieked, his eyes popping. 'I want to see some punishment!'

'We will be able to cure her, Argus,' Grandfather said patiently. 'Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs Norris.'

'I'll make it,' Lockhart butted in. 'I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep!'

'Excuse me,' Uncle Severus said icily, 'but I believe I am the Potions master at this school. And knowing you, you'd probably mess it up and end up poisoning the cat!'

There was a very awkward pause. I had to hide my face to conceal my silent laughter as Lockhart moved nervously away from Severus.

'Severus, why don't you take Harri back to her dormitory,' Grandfather suggested.

'Very well,' Uncle Severus said, taking his cold gaze away from Lockhart and leading me out of the room.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile**  
>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 5 November 2012  
><strong>Updated:<strong> N/A**  
>Beta:<strong>

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	12. Quidditch and Polyjuice Potion

**CHAPTER TWELVE: QUIDDITCH AND POLYJUICE POTION**

Uncle Severus ended up leading me back to his personal chambers.

'I thought that you were meant to be taking me to my dormitory,' I said, allowing my true form to show as I wrapped my arms around his waist. He held me close.

'That was just coded,' he replied, leading me over to his couch. We sat down together. 'Are you alright?'

'Yeah, I'm okay. Whatever petrified Mrs Norris was gone when I arrived.'

'Thank goodness for that.'

'Uncle Severus, what is the Chamber of Secret's?' I asked curiously.

'You know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution. For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. Then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families.

He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and it resulted in Slytherin leaving the school.

'According to legend, Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic.'

'What do you mean by the horror within?'

'There is supposedly a monster within that can only be control by the Heir of Slytherin,' He then smiled down at her, 'but not to worry. Your parents have searched the school many times, and no such chamber has been found.'

'But how do you know that it doesn't exist?' I asked, looking a little worried. 'Surely the message on the wall and the attack on Filch's cat proves it!'

'It doesn't prove anything, sweet heart,' Grandfather said as he entered the room with Grandmother. 'It is probably someone playing a sick joke.'

I wasn't convinced.

'What were you doing in that corridor, anyway?' Grandmother asked, sitting on my other side.

'I was heading back to the Gryffindor common room,' I lied. I didn't know why I didn't tell them about the voice. Maybe it was because I didn't want to worry them into thinking that I was losing it.

While Grandmother and Uncle Sev seemed to accept my answer, Grandfather didn't. He was giving me that look that made me feel as though I was being x-rayed. I felt as though he could see right through me. Thankfully, he eventually appeared to believe me.

'Very well,' Grandfather sighed. 'Severus will take you back to your dormitory. I don't want to take any chances of you being petrified too.'

I nodded my head.

'Night Grandfather… Grandmother.'

When I returned to the Common Room, I found it backed with students, excitedly and nervously talking amongst themselves about the night's events. A few times I heard my name crop up, but I didn't care. All I cared about was finding Ron and Hermione. I had to tell someone what had occurred.

As usual, I found them sitting in our usual spots.

'Harry, are you alright?' Hermione asked the moment she saw me. 'We just heard about the attack on Mrs Norris and how you were there. Whatever attacked her wasn't there when you came along, was it?'

'No, it was gone,' I said.

'What happened?' asked Ron.

After glancing around to make sure that no one was listening in to our conversation, I began to explain the night's events to my best friends. I told them about the bone-chilling voice I had heard in Lockhart's office and how he said that he couldn't hear it. I then explained, in detail, how I left his office and heard it again before following it to the second floor where I found the message and Mrs Norris.

'It must have only just left the corridor before you appeared,' Hermione whispered, looking pale. 'You could have been its second victim for the night!'

'But I wasn't. That's all that matters,' I told her gently.

'But Mrs Norris is cured now, isn't she?'

I shook my head sadly.

'Dumbledore was unable to cure her. He has to wait until Sprout's Mandrakes are fully grown before Snape can make a potion to cure the cat. What I don't understand, though, is why someone, or thing, would attack a cat. By the message on the wall, and given Salazar Slytherin's history with Muggle-borns, I thought they'd be after students with non-magic parents.'

'Well, Filch is a Squib, isn't he?' Ron replied thoughtfully. 'To a pureblood, Squibs are despised as much as Muggle-borns. What's Slytherin got to do with anything, anyway?'

'The Chamber of Secrets was created by Salazar Slytherin,' I replied before asking him a question. 'Now what on earth is a Squib and how do you know Filch is one?'

'A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. They are kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual,' Ron explained. 'As for knowing Filch is one, I heard Malfoy calling him one the other day.'

'And you believed him?'

'Well, it makes sense if Filch is,' Ron responded defensively. 'I mean, have you ever seen him use magic? And it would explain why he hates students so much. He's jealous of us!'

'If you say so,' I muttered. 'I wonder who it is, though.'

'Huh?'

'I wonder who the Heir of Slytherin is who is determined to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts.'

'Easy… Malfoy.'

Hermione and I looked at Ron, before I burst out laughing, while Hermione continued to look unconvinced.

'You're not serious,' she said.

'Of course I am! You've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him!'

'But Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin…'

'Look at his family, Hermione. All his ancestors have been in Slytherin, as he continuously boasts about. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough. Besides, they could have had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!'

'Ron may have a point, Hermione,' I said suddenly, all laughter gone from my face. 'I just remembered; Malfoy was in the crowd of students that saw Mrs Norris and me. He shouts out something about Muggle-borns being next.

'I suppose it's possible,' Hermione said uncertainly.

'But how do we prove it?'

'There might be a way,' Hermione replied slowly, dropping her voice. 'Of course, it would be difficult and not to meant dangerous, very dangerous. We'd also be breaking about fifty school rules in the process.'

'What are you on about?' Ron said irritably.

'All we need to do is brew some Polyjuice Potion, and then we'll be able to sneak inside the Slytherin common room and asked the unexpecting Malfoy a few questions.'

'What the bloody hell is Polyjuice Potion?' asked Ron.

Surprisingly, it was me who answered.

'It's a potion that transforms you into somebody else for a temporary period of time, depending how much you take,' I explained.

Ron and Hermione stared at me.

'What? Hey, I do pay attention to what Snape is saying sometimes,' I lied. True, Uncle Severus had discussed Polyjuice Potion last lesson, but he had also told me about it during the summer holidays. I even watched as he made some, to show his sixth years.

'That's almost as frightening as the attack tonight,' Hermione said seriously, making Ron laugh and me pout. 'Anyway, getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult.

Snape said it was in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_ and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library.'

'And how do you suppose we get to it?' Ron demanded. 'I cannot think of a single teacher who would sign a note of permission allowing us to get it.'

'True, but if me make it sound as though we only want the book for theory, they might.'

'Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that,' said Ron. 'They'd have to be really thick!'

'I know the perfect teacher,' I informed my friends cheerfully.

'And who would that be?' Ron and Hermione asked in unison.

'Lockhart,' I replied simply. 'We'll just get Hermione to hand him the note asking to have his autograph. He'll sign anything that stands still long enough.'

'Brilliant, Harry!' Ron laughed, while Hermione looked at me disapprovingly, but she nevertheless agreed to do it.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

Lockhart seemed to have learnt his lesson from the catastrophic incidence with the pixies, hence, he decided to teach and entertain the class by re-enacting his adventures and passages from his books. While many students seemed to enjoy these lessons, like Hermione, I did not. In fact, I spent these lessons trying to decide what was worse, the pixies or the torture I was going through each lesson. Hermione couldn't understand why I hated the lessons so much, but that might have been because she wasn't the one being hurled to the front of the classroom each lesson to help Lockhart with his re-enactments.

The lesson that Hermione was to get Lockhart's "autograph", I was forced to act as a werewolf. I was grateful when the lesson was over. These re-enactments were humiliating, especially when Draco made sure to sit right at the front to watch me, while smirking. He found my acting skills amusing and now informed me that I should never peruse the life of an actor for I sucked at it.

Anyway, as the class was leaving, and I was packing up my belongings, Hermione nervously approached Lockhart.

'How is it that she can help us rescue the Philosopher's Stone bravely, but when it comes to Lockhart, she is practically trembling?' Ron asked, with a tone of disgust, to me.

'She's still to get her priorities straight,' I muttered, turning to watch Hermione and Lockhart's interaction.

'Er – Professor Lockhart?' Hermione stammered nervously. 'I – I was wondering if I could get an autograph?' She handed him the permission form. She had cleverly folded it so he would end up signing it in the space provided for the teachers' signature.

'Of course,' he told her warmly, accepting the note and pulling out an enormous peacock quill. He then scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione.

'You didn't want me to write a message or anything on it, did you?' he asked her suddenly.

'No, this is fine. Thank you so much!' Hermione was positively beaming.

Lockhart smiled down at her before noticing Ron and I standing there waiting for Hermione.

'Would you like an autograph too, boys?' he asked.

'Pass,' I said rudely. 'Let's go, Hermione.'

'Wait just a moment, Harry!'

Groaning, I looked back at Lockhart.

'I hear that tomorrows the first Quidditch match of the season,' Lockhart continued now that he had my attention. 'Gryffindor versus Slytherin, is it not? I hear that you're a talented player. I was a Seeker too, you know. Of course, I was offered a position for the National Squad, but as you know, I decided to dedicate my life to eradicate the Dark Forces. So, if you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. I'm always happy to pass on my experience to less able players.'

'Those players must learn a lot from you,' I replied sarcastically, before looking off.

The moment we were out of hearing range, I turned to my friends.

'Can you believe him?' I huffed. 'One of these days he's going to fall from grace, and I hope I am there to see it!'

'Harry!'

'It's true, Hermione. Anyway, let's go and get the book.'

We headed straight for the library and went over to Madam Pince, the librarian, who was a thin, irritable woman. Some students went as far to say that she looked like an underfed vulture.

'_Moste Potente Potions_?' she repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione; but Hermione wouldn't let go.

'I was wondering if I could keep it,' she said breathlessly.

'Oh, come on,' Ron said disdainfully, pulling it from her grasp and shoving it at Madam Pince. 'We'll get you another autograph. Like Harry sat before, Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough.'

Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to identify a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and mouldy-looking book. Hermione put it carefully into her bag and we left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty.

Five minutes later, we were barricaded in the girls' bathroom on the second floor.

'So tell me again why we are going to be working on the potion in a girls' bathroom?' asked Ron. Being the only boy, he was most uncomfortable being in a girls' bathroom though he was suspicious and confused as to why I appeared at ease. After all, he thought that I was a boy too.

'It is the safest place for us to do it as no one ever comes in here,' Hermione replied as she opened _Moste Potente Potions_ carefully and flicking through its mouldy pages looking for the Polyjuice Potion.

'Why, is it cursed or something?' I asked, looking around.

'No, it's because of Moaning Myrtle,' Hermione replied.

'Who?'

'She's the ghost that haunts the U-bend here,' Hermione explained uncaringly. 'Oh, here it is!'

She had found the page headed _The Polyjuice Potion_. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. I genuinely hoped the artist had imagined the looks of extreme pain on their faces.

'This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen,' said Hermione as she scanned the recipe. 'Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass,' she murmured, running her finger down the list of ingredients. 'Well, they're easy enough; they're in the student store cupboard, we can help ourselves... Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn - don't know where we're going to get that - shredded skin of a boomslang - that'll be tricky, too and of course a bit of whomever we want to change into.'

'Excuse me?' Ron said sharply. 'What d'you mean, a bit of whomever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it.'

Hermione continued as though she hadn't heard him, like she usually did.

'We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last.'

'D'you realise how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione?' asked Ron. 'The shredded skin of a boomslang is definitely not in the students' cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea.'

Hermione shut the book with a snap.

'Well, if you are going to chicken out, fine,' she said. There were bright pink patches on her cheeks and her eyes were brighter than usual. 'I don't want to break rules, you know, however, I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion, but if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in!'

'I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be persuading us to break the rules,' said Ron. 'Alright, we'll do it, but not toenails, okay? And how long will it take to make, anyway?'

'Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days... I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients,' answered a much happier Hermione, reopening the book.

'A month? Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!'

'Do you have a better idea?' I asked Ron. I made sure to reply before Hermione could. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously.

'Yeah, you knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow,' Ron said seriously.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

I ended up waking up early on Saturday morning, but remained in bed. I laid there thinking about the coming Quidditch match. I was nervous, though that was only because we would be facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy. I know that I had told them that talent is what won a game, but Katie was right when she said that tools helped. The Slytherins' new brooms would definitely give them an unfair advantage over my team. It was for this reason that I desperately wanted to beat Slytherin. I wanted to show them that we were still the better team. Also because I could stand the thought of listening to Malfoy's gloating if he won.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school made its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air.

As usual, Wood made sure to give them a pre-match speech.

'Now, I know that Slytherin has better brooms than us,' he began. 'No point denying it, but as Harry said we've got better people on our brooms. We have the talent. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team.'

He then turned to me.

'It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying because we've got to win today, we've got to.'

'So no pressure, Harry,' Fred told me with a wink.

As we walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted us; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made sure their boos and hisses were heard too.

After forcing Flint and Wood to shake hands, Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, began the game.

I ended up flying higher than any of the other players on the field where I then hovered and squinted around for the Snitch.

'Alright there, Scar head?' yelled Draco, shooting underneath me as though to show off the speed of his broom.

Just as I was about to reply, I was forced to dodged a Bludger that had come pelting straight at me. It only just missed me.

'Close one, Harry!' said George, streaking past me with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin.

I watched as George gave the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian

Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in mid-air and shot straight for me again. I dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Draco. However, just like before, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at my head.

I put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch with the Bludger right behind me.

What on earth is going on? I thought angrily. Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible.

Fred was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. I ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.

'Gotcha!' Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to me, the Bludger pelted after me once more and I was forced to fly off at full speed.

Things were not looking good. With all my attention on the Bludger, and having Fred and George flying next to me, I had no chance of finding the Snitch unless it mysteriously flew up my sleeve. To make matters worse, the Slytherins' superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs with the score being Slytherin: Sixty and Gryffindor: Zero.

'Someone's - tampered - with - this - Bludger –' Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on me.

'We need time out,' said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking my nose at the same time.

Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Fred, George and I dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.

'What's going on?' said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. 'We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?'

'We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver,' George said angrily. 'Someone's fixed it - it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it.'

'But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then…' said Wood, anxiously.

Madam Hooch was walking toward them. Over her shoulder, I could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in my direction. I suddenly knew what I had to do.

'Listen,' I said to the twins, 'with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one.'

'Don't be thick,' said Fred. 'It'll take your head off.'

Wood was looking from me to the Weasleys.

'I Oliver, this is insane,' said Alicia Spinner angrily. 'You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry –'

'If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!' I said fiercely. 'And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver; tell them to leave me alone!'

'This is your entire fault,' George informed Wood, angrily. '"Get the Snitch

or die trying," what a stupid thing to tell him!'

Madam Hooch had joined us.

'Ready to resume play?' she asked Wood.

Wood looked at the determined look on my face.

'Alright,' he said. 'Fred, George, you heard Harry -leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own.'

The three Chasers and the twins were not happy with Wood and my decision.

The moment I was back in the air, the Bludger was upon me again. Cursing, I began to fly around the pitch. As the game went on, more and more people began to notice the Bludger tailing me. None of them could understand why it was tailing me, and those who remembered my first ever Quidditch match, began to wonder if the Bludger had been cursed like my broom had been.

And then I saw it. The Golden Snitch was flying around not too far away. Unfortunately, Draco had also seen it. I began to panic as he began to chase after it. I had to admit, he was actually a talented Seeker, but fortunately, Fred had seen him going after the Snitch and wacked a Bludger at him. Draco saw it out the corner of his eye and reared out of the way to avoid contact. In that short space of time, he had lost the Snitch and had given me the chance to catch up. By the time he saw it again, it was too late. I was already too far ahead.

I stretched out my right arm, determined to catch the Snitch, and WHAM! I screamed out in pain as the Bludger smashed into my elbow, and I felt my arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in my arm, I determinedly reached out my left arm to catch the Snitch. I made a wild snatch and felt my fingers close on the cold Snitch, but seeing as I was now only gripping the broom with my legs, I felt the broom fall to the ground. Draco, having seen that I was no longer in control of my broom, dove after me and pulled me onto his broom. He then lowered me safely to the ground.

'Thanks, Malfoy,' I muttered, surprised as my broom fell in the mud next to me.

Draco merely shrugged and walked away.

'Harry, are you alright?'

I turned around to see Ron and Hermione running towards me, and to my dismay, so was Lockhart.

'Oh, no, not you,' I moaned.

'Not to worry, Harry,' he said, stopping before me. 'I'll about to fix your arm in a jiffy.'

'It's fine. I'll just go to the hospital wing?' I said through clenched teeth. It was both because of the pain and him.

'Nonsense! This won't hurt a bit.'

'No - don't –' I begged weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at my arm.

A strange and unpleasant sensation started at my shoulder and spread all the way down to my fingertips. It felt as though my arm was being deflated. I didn't dare look at what was happening, but I did when Lockhart started talking sounding embarrassed and awkward.

'Ah, yes,' he said. 'Well, that can sometimes happen, but the point is, the bones are no longer broken.'

Taking a deep breath I looked down at my right side. What I saw nearly made me pass out. Poking out of the end of my robes was what looked like a thick, flesh-coloured rubber glove. I tried to move my fingers, but nothing happened. Lockhart hadn't mended my bones, he had removed them.

'Broken? I have no bones left!' I yelled angrily.

'Put you can no longer feel any pain –'

'Thanks, but I think I would prefer to be in pain knowing that I had my bones!'

'Ah, um… Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, would you escort him to the Hospital Wing? Madam Pomfrey should be able to - er - tidy you up a bit.'

'Should?' I asked sharply. 'What do you mean should? Are you saying that I could be boneless in this arm for the rest of my life?'

'I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to fix it,' Lockhart said nervously, before hurrying off.

'She'd better, otherwise, you'll be at the top of my hitless,' I growled as Ron and Hermione helped me to my feet.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased when she saw what Lockhart had done.

'You should have come straight to me!' she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm.

'I would have if Professor Lockhart hadn't been so determined to mend it,' I replied bitterly. 'You will be able to repair the damage he has done, won't you?'

'I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful,' Madam Pomfrey said grimly, throwing me a pair of pyjamas. 'You'll have to stay the night and a rough night at that.' She pouring out a steaming beaker full and handing it to me. 'Regrowing bones is a nasty business.'

So was taking the Skele-Gro. It burned my mouth and throat as it went down, making my cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting about dangerous sports and incompetent teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Ron and Hermione to help me gulp down some water. I would wait for Grandmother, Grandfather or Uncle Severus to secretly visit me to help me into my pyjamas.

'We won, though,' said Ron, a grin breaking across his face. 'That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face... he looked ready to kill.'

'Well obvious he wasn't otherwise he wouldn't have saved me,' I commented.

'Yeah, that was a real surprise, especially after fixing that Bludger,' said Ron.

'I don't think it was him who fixed that Bludger,' I said. 'It would take an older student or adult to do something like that, right, Hermione?'

'Right.'

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-  
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Hours and hours later, I woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain. My arm now felt like it was full of large splinters. For a second, I thought that was what had woken me. Then, with a thrill of horror, I realised that someone was sponging my forehead in the dark.

Opening my eyes, I came face to face with a house-elf's large green tennis ball eyes.

'Dobby?'

'Princess Harrietta came back to school,' he whispered miserably with a single tear was running down his long, pointed nose. 'Dobby warned and warned Princess Harrietta. Ah Princess, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Princess Harrietta go back home when she missed the train?'

I heaved myself up on me pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away.

'First off, what are you doing here?' I asked. 'And secondly, how did you know I missed the train?'

Dobby's lip trembled and I was seized by a sudden suspicion.

'It was you!' I said slowly. 'You stopped the barrier from letting Ron and me through!'

'Indeed yes, Princess,' said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously.

'Why?'

'Dobby wanted to make sure Princess Harrietta would be safely away from Hogwarts.'

I looked at the creature before me, not knowing where I should be grateful or not.

'Why do you wear that thing, Dobby?' I asked suddenly, looking at the filthy pillowcase he wore.

'This, Princess?' said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. ''Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, Princess. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, Princess, for then he would be free to leave their house forever. None of them, except the young master, cares about Dobby, though the young master can only be nice to Dobby is private so young master's parents do not see.'

'Princess Harrietta must go home!' he urged suddenly. 'Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make –'

'Your Bludger?' I questioned sharply, my temper rising. 'You made that Bludger try and kill me?'

'Not kill you, Princess, never kill you!' said Dobby, shocked. 'Dobby wants to save Princess Harrietta's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here, Princess! Dobby only wanted Princess Harrietta hurt enough to be sent home!'

'Oh, is that all?' I said sarcastically. 'I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?'

'Ah, if only Princess Harrietta only knew!' Dobby groaned, tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. 'If only she knew what she means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, Princess! We house-elves were treated like vermin, Princess! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, Princess.'

In the distance, we heard a noise which told us that someone was out and about.

'Listen, Princess, terrible things are to happen here at Hogwarts,' Dobby informed me urgently. 'Dobby cannot let Princess Harrietta stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more.'

'The Chamber has been open before!' I exclaimed. Why didn't Grandfather tell me, or Grandmother and Uncle Severus? Surely they knew.

Dobby froze, horror struck that he had just told me something he shouldn't have. He grabbed my water jug from my bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, 'Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby…'

'Are you alright?' I asked, looking very concerned.

The house-elf nodded.

'So if the Chamber is real, I don't understand how I am in danger. I'm not a Squib or Muggle-born.'

'Dark deeds are planned in this place,' said Dobby, not answering my question, 'but Princess Harrietta must not be here when they happen - go home, Princess Harrietta, go home.'

He then disappeared.

I sat there in the dark for a while, not knowing what to do, when I heard footsteps coming down the passageway outside. I slumped back into bed, my eyes on the dark doorway to the Hospital Wing as the footsteps drew nearer.

Next moment, Grandfather was backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Grandmother appeared a second later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.

'Get Poppy,' Grandfather whispered.

Grandmother did as he asked and moments later I heard urgent voices. Grandmother then swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress. I heard a sharp intake of breath.

'What happened?' Madam Pomfrey whispered to Grandfather, bending over the statue on the bed.

'Another attack,' Grandfather replied grimly. 'Minerva found him on the stairs.'

'There was a bunch of grapes next to him,' said Grandmother. 'We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Harri.'

My stomach gave a horrible lurch. Slowly and carefully, I raised myself a few inches so I could look at the statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face.

It was Colin. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.

'Petrified?' Madam Pomfrey whispered.

'Yes,' said Grandmother.

The three of them stared down at Colin. Then Grandfather leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin's rigid grip.

'You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" Grandmother enquired eagerly.

Grandfather didn't answer. He opened the back of the camera, which let out a jet of steam. Harry, three beds away,

'What does this mean, Albus?' Grandmother asked urgently.

'It means that the Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again,' he said gravely.

Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Grandmother stared at her husband.

'But, Albus... surely... who?'

'I think we both know the answer to that question,' Grandfather replied quietly.

'But how is that possible?'

'I don't know.'

I saw Grandmother glance over at my bed and begin to walk towards me. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep wondering what my grandparents had meant.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page: <strong>link on profile**  
>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 6 November 2012  
><strong>Updated:<strong> **  
>Beta:<strong>

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	13. One Step Closer

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: ONE STEP CLOSER**

I was let out of the Hospital Wing the next morning with my bones fully grown. I was relieved to know that I wouldn't be boneless for the rest of my life. Lockhart was so lucky that he wouldn't have to feel my wraith.

I ended up finding Ron and Hermione in Moaning Myrtles bathroom working on the Polyjuice Potion. My sudden appearance ended up scaring them. They had thought that a schoolgirl or professor had entered.

'Relax, it's only me,' I said. 'I figured you'd be here.'

'Yeah, we were going to come and meet you, but we decided to get started on the Polyjuice Potion, especially after that attack on Colin,' Ron explained.

'How do you know about the attack?' I asked.

'We overheard McGonagall telling Flitwick. How do you know?'

'I was awake when they brought him into the Hospital Wing, but there is more. The Chamber has been opened once before.'

Ron and Hermione looked at me quickly.

'It has been opened before?' Hermione was looking startled.

'Of course, Lucius Malfoy must have opened it when he was at school here, and now he has taught Draco how to do it,' Ron said confidently.

'Maybe, but I think Dumbledore and McGonagall already know who it is,' I informed them quietly.

'What makes you say that?' asked Hermione.

'McGonagall asked Dumbledore who he thought was behind it and he replied saying that they both know who it is, but they don't know how it is possible. This makes me think that it isn't Malfoy. So making the potion will be a waste of time.'

'We don't know this for sure,' said Hermione. 'I think we should still check.'

'If that's what you want,' I muttered, sitting down and watching Hermione work. 'So, have you figured out where we are going to get the other ingredients?'

'I think our best chance is stealing from Snape.'

'Are you insane? If he catches us, he'll skin us alive!' Ron exclaimed.

'I know it's risky, but I think our best chance is to create a diversion during Potions and then I'll sneak off.'

'Well, if you're volunteering,' said Ron.

'I've got a better idea,' I said suddenly. 'Can you give me a list of the ingredients that you need?'

'Sure, but why?' Hermione asked suspiciously.

'I'm obviously going to get the ingredients now. I'll use my invisibility cloak. He'll never know that I was there.'

'I like that plan better,' said Ron.

'So do I,' Hermione admitted, writing out the list of ingredients she still needed.

With the list of ingredients in hand, I made my way to Uncle Severus' personal quarters, not even bothering to go to get my invisibility cloak. I knew that being the Potion Masters' niece had its benefits.

Once at Uncle Severus' quarters, I looked around and saw the corridor was deserted. I then turned back to the entrance and muttered the password. I entered the room and became my true self again. I was hoping that Uncle Severus wouldn't be home, but he was.

'Harri, what are you doing here?' he asked, looking up from the homework he was marking.

'Does a niece need a reason to see her uncle?' I asked innocently.

'I guess not,' Uncle Severus laughed as she went and sat across from him. 'How's your arm?'

'Oh, it's fine.'

'Good. I could have strangled Lockhart. I know Mother was as furious if not more upset than Madam Pomfrey. I heard that you lost your temper with him too.'

'Would you expect anything less?'

'No. You have your mother's temper,' Uncle Severus admitted.

'So what are you marking?' I asked conversationally, stealing a handful of crisps from the bowl in front of him.

'Your class' Potion's homework,' he replied, looking up at me. He didn't look too thrilled.

'Have you marked mine?' I asked casually.

'Yes, and I'm not too happy with the mark either,' he informed me sternly. 'You only just passed.'

'At least I passed.'

'That doesn't matter, Harri. What matters is the fact remains that at times you completely missed the point. Even scarier is that you were helping me with the said Potion during the holidays.'

'That was during the holidays. A lot has happened since then.'

'Even so, you need to put more effort in.'

'Yes, Uncle Severus.' I sighed, before stealing some more crisps.

For an hour I sat there, calmly talking to my uncle. That was until he realised that he had to get to a staff meeting.

'Would you mind if I hung out here for a bit longer?' I asked as he headed for the exit.

'Why would you want to do that?' he said, looking a little concerned. 'Are you fighting with your friends?'

'Oh no, it's nothing like that!' I laughed. 'No, I'm just trying to avoid Lockhart.'

'In that case, stay as long as you want,' Uncle Severus said seriously. He then left.

I waited a few minutes to make sure he was definitely gone, before sneaking into his personal potions lab. I immediately went over to the cupboards and stole the necessary ingredients, before hurrying back to Ron and Hermione.

'Got them,' I said as I walked inside, scaring them again.

'What took you so long?' asked Ron.

'Snape was in there,' I replied. 'I had to wait until he was gone. It would look suspicious otherwise, if he saw the cupboard door opening but no one there.' Hey, it wasn't a complete lie. Uncle Severus was indeed there and I did have to wait until he was gone.

'Well I think you did a marvellous job,' Hermione praised, smiling up at me. 'Snape will never know that it was us! Anyway, at this rate, it should be ready by the Christmas holidays.'

'Does it really matter?' asked Ron. 'It's not like we'll be able to use it. Malfoy goes home of the Christmas holidays.'

It was true that Draco did go home for the Christmas holidays, by in the second week of December, when Grandmother came collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas, we discovered that Draco was staying. This naturally struck us as very suspicious. The holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to worm a confession out of him.

A week later, Ron, Hermione, and I were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned us over excitedly.

'What's going on?' I asked, unable to see the notice on the notice board.

'They're starting a Duelling Club!' Seamus informed us. 'The first meeting is tonight! I wouldn't mind duelling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days.'

'Indeed it would be,' I said thoughtfully as Ron pushed through the crowd to read the notice. Hermione and I just stood there waiting for him.

So at eight o'clock that evening my friends and I hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was silky black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

'I wonder who'll be teaching us,' Hermione said as we edged into the chattering crowd. 'Someone told me Flitwick was a duelling champion when he was young - maybe it'll be him.'

'I don't care who it is as long as it isn't Lockhart,' I said, before groaning as the said idiot walked onto the stage. 'Kill me now,' I muttered. This was definitely going to be a long night.

However, it interested me to see Uncle Severus follow Lockhart onto stage. Maybe this would be fun after all.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, 'Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me?'

'Unfortunately, yes,' I grumbled, making Ron snort and Hermione give me a disapproving look.

'Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works. Now let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape,' said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. 'He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him, never fear!'

Uncle Severus' upper lip was curling. I wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; most people would have been wise enough to run in the opposite direction, but since when has Lockhart ever been wise?

Lockhart and Uncle Severus turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Uncle Severus jerked his head irritably. They then raised their wands like swords in front of them.

'As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position,' Lockhart told the silent crowd. 'On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course.'

'I wouldn't bet on that,' I murmured, watching Uncle Severus baring his teeth. I knew that Uncle Severus would gladly rid the world of the buffoon before him.

'One - two - three –'

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent.

'_Expelliarmus_!' Uncle Severus cried.

There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor. Uncle Severus carelessly looked down at his wand, not particularly bothered about what he just did.

Draco and some of the other Slytherins cheered, while I tried not to laugh. I bet Uncle Severus loved being given the chance to attack Lockhart. Hermione, however, was dancing on tiptoes, looking highly concerned.

'Do you think he's alright?' she squealed.

'Who cares?' Ron and I laughed.

Lockhart got unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

'Well, there you have it!' he said, staggering back onto the platform.

'That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…'

'Really? Then let's go again and we can show the students how to block unfriendly spells?' Uncle Severus suggested, looking murderous.

Lockhart paled.

'Actually I think we should have a volunteered student pair up here!' he said quickly. 'Um, Harry, Weasley… how about you?'

'Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells,' Uncle Severus dismissed immediately. 'We'll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox.'

Ron went red.

I knew why Uncle Severus didn't want me duelling Ron. He didn't want to see me get hurt by one of Ron's malfunctioning spells.

'Let's have Malfoy up here instead,' Uncle Severus said with a twisted smile.

I looked at Uncle Severus, stunned. He was seriously going to pair us together. Did he want the Hall destroyed?

'Excellent idea!' said Lockhart, quickly. He clearly didn't want to mess with Uncle Severus any more.

Draco and I climbed up onto the stage, before facing each other.

'Scared, Potter?' Draco asked with one of his famous smirks.

'You wish,' I said with a laugh. I faced Voldemort last year, so why would I be scared of a fellow second year, and Draco at that?

'On the count of three, cast your spell to disarm your opponent, _only to disarm_. We don't want any accidents here,' said Lockhart. 'One… two…'

'_Everte Statum_!' Draco yelled.

I watch helplessly as a bright light shot out from his wand, hitting me in the chest and sending me flying backwards. I landed painfully on the end of the stage. Growling slightly, I got up confidently, making Draco's smile disappear slightly.

'_Rictusempra_,' I said calmly, before laughing as Draco began to laugh as he was tickled.

'_Finite Incantatem_,' Uncle Severus said, pointing his wand at Draco, who instantly stopped laughing and glared at me.

'_Serpensortia_!' he barked out.

To my surprise, a long black snake shot out of his wand and slowly began to slither towards me. There were screams from the crowd, but I took no notice of them, I just stared at the snake, debating what to do.

'Don't worry, Harry, I'll get rid of it for you,' Lockhart said confidently.

He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Just as Uncle Severus was about to get rid of it, he paused as he saw me walking toward it.

'Leave him alone!' I told it coldly.

It ignored me.

'Leave him alone!' I ordered again.

This time it turned to look at me.

'I won't hurt you,' I told it quietly. I bent down before picking it up. It was tense at first, but then it relaxed in my arms. It was truly a beautiful snake.

'What do you think you're playing at?' Justin suddenly shouted.

I looked at him confused, only to see that everyone was looking at me strangely, though Uncle Severus was rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Not liking the looks I was getting, and not understanding why everyone was looking at me in fear and horror, I quickly left the hall and went to Uncle Severus' quarters to hide from everyone.

It was on Uncle Severus' couch that Uncle Severus, Grandmother and Grandfather found me. I still had the snake.

'Harri, are you alright?' Grandmother asked, sitting on the couch next to me, and pulling me into a hug.

'No. I don't understand what happened,' I told her with a slight sob. 'Why was everyone looking at me like that?'

'It's because you scared them, sweet heart,' Grandfather told me gently, sitting on my other side.

'How? I didn't do anything!'

'You spoke Parseltongue.'

'I spoke what?'

'Parseltongue; it means that you have the ability to talk to snakes,' Grandfather explained.

'By how did that scare them?' I did not understand any of this. 'Surely loads of people can do it!'

Uncle Severus shook his head.

'No, they can't. It is not a very common gift. For those who can speak Parseltongue, they basically hear themselves speaking English, but everyone else hears them hissing. They hear a different language.'

'Why does it matter though? I saved Justin!'

'I know, honey, but being a Parselmouth is seeing as something dark,' said Grandmother. 'That is why my direct line has kept it hidden from the rest of the world.'

'You are a Parseltongue too?' I looked quickly up at her.

'Yes. So is your great grandmother, both your uncles and your father was one too.'

'But why?'

'It has been passed down for generations, ever since Salazar Slytherin himself.'

'What?'

'We are the Hairs of Slytherin.'

'But that message on the wall and the attack on Mrs Norris and Colin –'

'We don't know who that was, Harri,' said Grandfather.

'But you can see why your schoolmates were scared of you,' Uncle Severus said quietly. 'They think you are the one attacking. Be prepared for some tough months.'

'This stinks!' I complained.

'I know it does, baby, I know it does.'

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

Uncle Severus was right when he said that my life was going to become horrible now that everyone found out I was a Parseltongue. From that night on, many people would run away from me or whisper about me behind my back. Only a handful of people weren't stupid enough to believe that I was the attacker. Ron and Hermione, of course, were by my side at all times, and Fred and George had even tried to lighten the mood by jokingly going everywhere saying how I was a seriously dangerous wizard to those who were scared of me. They were saying it sarcastically, of course.

I honestly couldn't wait until the holidays where most of the school would be going home and I wouldn't have to worry about people skirting me in the corridors or running away from me. Unfortunately, a double attack happened before the holidays, and I had to be the one to find it.

I had been heading to the bathroom when I tripped over something. Turning to see what I had tripped over, I felt my jaw drop. It was Justin, and he had been petrified. Next to him was a petrified Nearly Headless Nick.

I got to my feet, my breathing fast and shallow, with my heart doing a kind of drumroll against my ribs. I looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.

I was debating what to do when Peeves the Poltergeist appeared, which was just my luck.

'Why, it's potty wee Potter!' he cackled, knocking my glasses askew as he bounced past me. 'What's Potter up to? Why's Potter lurking –'

Peeves stopped, halfway through a mid-air somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and, before I could stop him, screamed:

'ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!'

D after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Justin was in danger of being squashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nick. I found myself pinned against the wall as the teachers shouted for quiet. Grandmother came running, followed by her own class. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie Macmillan, Justin's friend, arrived, panting, on the scene.

'Caught in the act!' he yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at me.

'That will do, Macmillan!' Grandmother said sharply.

Justin ended up being carried up to the hospital wing by Flitwick and Professor Aurora Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Grandmother conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Ernie with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. She then hurried me away from the accusing crowds' glares and frightened looks.

When word spread of the double attack, even more people scrambled to put their names down to go home for the holidays, not that I cared. The more people that left, the better. I couldn't take much more of the accusing looks.

Then, on Christmas Eve, Hermione informed Ron and me that the Polyjuice Potion would be ready the next day.

'Watch out, Harry,' said Ron, 'you're about to get the best Christmas present this year; a free name!'

My friends and I ended up spending Christmas morning together, but for lunch time, I made an excuse to get away from them to see my family and have Christmas lunch with them. It turned out to be most enjoyable. This was my first ever loving family Christmas. I knew that I would remember it always.

That night, I had Christmas dinner with the Weasleys and Hermione, however, when Fred, George, Percy and Ginny left the table, Hermione, Ron and I remained. We were going to take the Polyjuice Potion tonight.

'We still need a bit of the people you're changing into,' Hermione said matter-of-factly as we went over the plan again, 'and obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Malfoys best friends, he'll tell them anything. We also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him. That is why I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet.'

'Whose hair are you ripping out?' I asked.

'I've already got mine!' Hermione said brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of her pocket and showing them the single hair inside it. 'Millicent Bulstrode, I got this off her robes.'

'And how are you going to make sure she doesn't come charging in?'

'She's gone home for the holidays.'

'Won't Malfoy be suspicious that you are her then?'

'No. I'll just tell everyone that I changed my mind and decided to come back.'

When Hermione had bustled off to check on the Polyjuice Potion, Ron and I started our operation to get Crabbe and Goyle's hair. We lurked in the deserted entrance hall after Christmas tea, waiting for Crabbe and Goyle who had remained alone at the Slytherin table, shovelling down fourth helpings of trifle. I had perched the chocolate cakes on the end of the banisters. When we spotted Crabbe and Goyle coming out of the Great Hall, we hid quickly hid behind a suit of armour next to the front door.

'How thick can you get?' Ron asked in a whisper as Crabbe delightedly pointed out the cakes to Goyle and grabbed them.

Grinning stupidly, they stuffed the cakes whole into their large mouths. For a moment, both of them chewed ravenously, looks of triumph on their faces. Then, without the smallest change of expression, they both keeled over backward onto the floor.

'How can Malfoy be friends with someone so stupid?' I wondered aloud as we heaved and dragged the two unconscious Slytherins into the broom cupboard. 'He must have a lot of patience.'

'If you say so,' replied Ron as he pulled out several of Crabbe's hairs. I did the same with Goyle.

After stealing their shoes too, our own were far too small for Crabbe- and Goyle-size feet, we sprinted to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

'Did you get them?' Hermione asked the moment we entered the bathroom.

I showed her Goyle's hair.

'Good. And I sneaked these spare robes out of the laundry,' Hermione said, holding up a small sack. 'You'll need bigger sizes once you're Crabbe and Goyle.'

The three of us stared into the cauldron. Close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly. It definitely wouldn't be an appealing drink.

Hermione then poured the potion into three separate glasses. With the classes in hand, we each went into separate cubicles where we dressed into the rooms Hermione nicked. With this done, we added the hairs before drinking the potion at the exact same time.

It was disgusting. I had never tasted anything so vile! It was also painful. Immediately my insides started writhing as though I had just swallowed live snakes. Doubled up, I wondered whether I was going to be sick. A burning sensation so followed as it spread rapidly from my stomach to the very ends of my fingers and toes - next, bringing me gasping to all fours, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over my body bubbled like hot wax - and before my eyes, my hands began to grow, fingers thickened, nails broadened, and knuckles bulging like bolts. My shoulders stretched painfully and a prickling on my forehead told me that my hair was creeping down toward my eyebrows.

However, as suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. I then realised that my glasses were clouding my eyes because Goyle obviously didn't need them. I took them off and called, 'Are you two okay?' Goyle's low rasp of a voice issued from my mouth.

'Yeah,' said the deep grunt of Crabbe from my right.

I unlocked my door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. Goyle stared back at me out of dull, deep-set eyes. Ron's door opened. We stared at each other. Except for the fact that he looked pale and shocked, Ron was distinguishable from Crabbe, from the pudding-bowl haircut to the long, gorilla arms.

'We'd better get going,' I said. 'We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is. I only hope we can find someone to follow.'

Then banged on the cubicle door Hermione was behind.

'Let's go Hermione!'

'I - I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me,' came Hermione's high pitched-reply.

'Hermione, are you okay?' I asked with my voice full of concern.

'I'm fine, just go!'

Finding the Slytherin common room ended up being quite difficult. Thankfully, Draco ended up finding them.

'There you are,' he drawled, looking at them. 'Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time?'

Ron and I nodded our heads.

'Why doesn't that surprise me?' Draco sighed, before leading them towards the common room.

Once inside the Slytherin common room, Draco longed in a couch, while Ron and I sat awkwardly in the couch across from him.

'You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet,' Draco said thoughtfully. 'I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place.'

'You're wrong!' I snapped, before realising my big mistake. I had been outraged about him talking about my grandfather like he was, that I forgot the reason we were here.

'What? Do you think that there is someone here that is worse than Dumbledore?' Draco demanded.

'Harry Potter?' I suggested quickly. I knew that he would hate me so this was a good cover up. I was shocked by his answer, though.

'Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend?' Draco laughed slightly. Nah, he's not that bad. I still can't believe they think he is the Heir of Slytherin. He's friends with a Mudblood, shouldn't that tell people something?'

'Do you know who it is?' I asked cautiously.

Draco looked at me.

'Your continuous faith in my knowledge is both flattering and stupid, Goyle,' he replied. 'What on earth makes you think I know who is behind it? The only thing I know is that the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened – fifty years ago -, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them is killed this time.'

'D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?'

'Oh, yeah... whoever it was ended up being expelled,' replied Draco. 'They're probably still in Azkaban.'

'Azkaban?'

'Azkaban - the wizard prison, Goyle,' said Draco, looking at me in disbelief. 'Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backwards. Anyway, I'm going to bed. Dinner with my godfather has worn me out. Night.'

The moment Draco had disappeared, Ron and I left the common room, and not a moment too soon. The potion had already begun to wear off.

By the time they had arrived back at Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, they were back to their old selves again, in robes that were way too big for them. I felt as though I was wearing something of Dudley's.

'Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you –' began Ron.

'Go away!' Hermione squeaked.

Ron and I looked at each other.

'What's the matter?' said Ron. 'You must be back to normal by now, we are.'

A young ghost girl, who I assumed to be Moaning Myrtle, glided suddenly through the stall door, looking jubilant.

'Ooooh, wait till you see,' she said. 'It's awful.'

Ron and I heard the lock slide back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.

'Hermione, what's wrong?' I was getting very concerned now.

Hermione let her robes fall and Ron backed into the sin, while my eyes widened dramatically. Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair.

'It was a c-cat hair!' she howled. 'M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!'

'Uh-oh,' said Ron.

'You'll be teased something dreadful,' Myrtle said happily.

'It's okay, Hermione,' I said quickly. 'We'll take you up to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions.'

Hermione hesitantly nodded her head and allowed herself to be led out of the bathroom.

'Please tell me you discovered it was him,' she sobbed to me.

'Actually, we got nothing out of it,' I said. 'I hate to say, but I told you it wouldn't be Malfoy.'

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile**  
>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 7 November 2012  
><strong>Updated:<strong> **  
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**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	14. Hagrid the Attacker?

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN: HAGRID THE ATTACKER?**

Hermione ended up remaining in the Hospital Wing for several weeks. During this time, a rumour was spread that she was another victim. Ron and I, naturally, visited her every day, and when classes started again, we'd bring her the day's homework. Ron was yet to understand why she wanted to do her homework.

I was also been watched closely by my family. Madam Pomfrey had naturally informed Grandfather of Hermione's condition and it didn't take long for Uncle Severus to swoop down upon me. He had noticed his missing ingredients, and when he learnt of Hermione's condition, he naturally put two and two together. I, of course, denied the entire thing, saying that I had no interest in stealing his potion ingredients and had no idea of how Hermione turned into a cat. In the end he dropped the matter, but I could see it in his eyes that he didn't believe me, and he left me with a warning advising me not to do anything stupid or dangerous.

Hermione left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less, and fur-free, at the beginning of February when the sun had begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood.

While I believed that the attacker had lost his or her nerve, seeing as it must have been getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Secrets with the school so alert and suspicious, Ernie and many other students were still convinced that I was the guilty one and that I had "given myself away" at the Duelling Club. Peeves wasn't helping matters either; he kept popping up in the crowded corridors singing "Oh, Potter, you rotter . . .' with a dance routine to match. Lockhart, however, seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Uncle Severus had informed me that Lockhart had been bragging during their last staff meeting.

February soon went and the next thing everyone knew, Easter had arrived. The second years were given something new to think about during their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for the third year, a matter that Hermione, at least, took very seriously.

'It could affect our whole future,' she told Ron and me as we pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks.

Neville had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether we thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than the study of Ancient Runes. Dean, who had grown up with Muggles, ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his wand at the list, then picking the subjects it landed on. Hermione took nobody's advice but signed up for everything.

However, I ended up sneaking away from Ron and Hermione to Uncle Severus' where I found Grandmother and Grandfather with him.

'Harri, what a pleasant surprise,' Grandmother greeted. 'What are you doing here?'

'I thought that I'd ask for your opinions on choosing my subjects for next year,' I said, sitting on the couch next to Uncle Severus.

'Have you decided on any subjects at all yet?' Uncle Severus asked as I spread the different class information out across the coffee table.

'Honestly, no,' I admitted. 'I have no idea what to choose, though Ron's brother, Percy, suggested Divination, Muggle Studies and that I should play with my strengths like his brother Charlie did. Apparently Charlie is the outdoor type so he chose Care of Magical Creatures.'

'Well, I think you'd be wise to choose Divination,' Grandfather said, making Grandmother choked on her tea. 'Yes, Minerva, you know that it would be wise for Harri to do divination. She may have inherited your mother's seer abilities.'

'Okay, so Divination… but what else do you think?'

'You'd probably enjoy Care of Magical Creatures,' said Uncle Severus, 'and I think you can forget about Muggle Studies. You already know enough about them, having been raised by Muggles.'

'So you don't think that I should do Ancient Runes or Arithmancy?'

'I don't think that you'd enjoy Arithmancy,' said Grandmother. 'As for Ancient Runes, your grandfather can teach you that during the school holidays if you'd like.'

'Huh, that went quicker than I thought,' I said, backing everything up. 'Neville asked his family for help, and they all gave him different advice. He's so confused at the moment.'

'Why doesn't that surprise me?' Uncle Severus muttered.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-  
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Gryffindor's next Quidditch match was against Hufflepuff and everyone was looking forward to the game, however, little did they know, their happiness would soon disappear and would be replaced with fear.

The day of the Quidditch match was bright and sunny with a refreshing breeze. It was perfect Quidditch conditions, and perfect conditions to hide an unseen attack.

As I left the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione to go and collect my Quidditch belongings, I heard it.

'Kill this time ... let me rip ... tear. . .'

I shouted aloud and Ron and Hermione both jumped away from my in alarm.

'The voice!' I shouted. "I just heard it again - did you?' I had told them all about the voice I heard back when Mrs Norris was attacked.

Ron shook his head, wide-eyed. Hermione, however, clapped a hand to her forehead.

'Harry - I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!'

And she sprinted away, up the stairs.

'What does she understand?' I asked Ron distractedly, still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.

'Loads more than I do,' said Ron, shaking his head.

'But why's she got to go to the library?'

'Because that's what Hermione does.' Ron shrugged. 'When in doubt, go to the library.'

I was about to move when I suddenly became light headed. I grabbed hold of Ron's shoulder.

'Harry, what's wrong?' Ron asked, holding on to me, preventing me from falling.

I did not reply.

I had my eyes closed as I had a vision of Hermione, lying like a statue, petrified, in the Hospital Wing with a hand mirror next to her.

'Harry!'

I opened my eyes and looked at Ron.

'I'm fine,' I muttered. 'I'm – I'm going to go and get ready. See you later.'

I hurried off, well aware of Ron's eyes watching me.

I barely paid any attention to my surrounds as I headed down to the Gryffindor changing rooms to get ready.

_What was with that image?_ I thought. _Did it have some sort of significance? Or is it just my mind playing tricks on me from late night training?_

These thoughts were with her until the teams walked onto the field to boisterous applause. Wood took off for a warm-up flight around the goal posts; Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics. I was just mounting my broom when Grandmother came half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

My heart dropped like a stone. Surely that hallucination that I saw hadn't come true.

'This match has been cancelled,' Grandmother announced through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Wood, looking devastated, landed and ran toward her without getting off his broomstick.

'But, Professor!' he shouted. 'We've got to play - the cup Gryffindor –'

Grandmother ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone:

'All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!'

Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned me over to her.

'Harri, I think you'd better come with me …' she said quietly, as Wood went off grumbling.

'It's Hermione, isn't it?' I said quietly.

'Yes, but how -?'

'I don't know. I had a vision or something where I saw her petrified in the Hospital Wing with a hand mirror.'

'Your grandfather was right. You have inherited my mother's seer abilities.'

'You mean, it I had of acted when I saw it, I could have prevented it from happening?'

'We will never know. Now let's find your friend, Ron.'

When we arrived at the Hospital Wing, Grandmother led us straight to Hermione's beside.

'Hermione!' Ron groaned.

Hermione was laying utterly still, her eyes open and glassy. I felt as though I was looking at my vision again.

'She was found near the library,' said Grandmother. Her voice was soft and motherly. 'Come now. I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower. I need to address the students in any case…'

'…All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities.' The Gryffindors packed inside the common room listened to Grandmother in silence. She rolled up the parchment from which she had been reading and said in a somewhat choked voice, 'I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward.'

She climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began talking immediately. However, I didn't pay any attention to what they were saying. I just couldn't be able to get rid of the picture of Hermione, lying on the hospital bed as though carved out of stone.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

The next day, Ron and I ended up going over to Hagrid's for afternoon tea. Professor Flitwick had kindly agreed to escort us there.

Seconds after we had knocked on Hagrid's front door, Hagrid flung it open. We found ourselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at us. Fang the boarhound barked loudly behind him.

'Oh,' he said, lowering the weapon and staring at us. 'It's only you two.'

'What's that for?' I questioned, pointing at the crossbow as Ron and I stepped inside.

'Nothin' - nothin' – 'Hagrid muttered. 'I've bin expectin'… doesn' matter - Sit down - I'll make tea –'

He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hand.

'Are you okay, Hagrid?' I asked. 'Did you hear about Hermione?'

'Oh, I heard, alrigh',' replied Hagrid, a slight break in his voice.

He kept glancing nervously at the windows. He poured us all large mugs of boiling water (he had forgotten to add tea bags) and was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate when there was a loud knock on the door. Hagrid dropped the fruitcake. He quickly seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.

'Good evening, Hagrid.'

I gasped. It was Grandfather. He entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second, very odd-looking man. The stranger had rumpled grey hair and an anxious expression, and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carried a lime-green bowler. Both the man and Grandfather paused when they saw Ron and me at the table.

'Hello Harri, Mr Weasley,' Grandfather greeted. 'I'm sure you have heard of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!'

'Hello, sir,' I said politely.

'Hello, Harry, Mr Weasley.' Fudge nodded his head at us. 'Why don't you two run along -?'

'Sorry, sir, but students aren't allowed to be out by themselves,' I said innocently. I was actually dying to know why they were here.

'Of course, but –'

'It is alright, Cornelius,' Grandfather interrupted. 'They are good friends of Hagrid's.'

'Very well.' Fudge turned to Hagrid. 'I gather you know why I am here. I had to come. Three attacks on Muggle-borns and a Squib's cat. Things have gone far enough. Ministry's got to act.'

My eyes widened. How could they be blaming Hagrid for these attacks? I looked quickly at Grandfather who looked sad.

'I never,' Hagrid said quickly, looking beseechingly at Grandfather. 'You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir –'

'I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence,' said Grandfather, frowning at Fudge.

'Look, Albus,' said Fudge, uncomfortably. 'Hagrid's record's against him. Ministry's got to do something - the school governors have been in touch –'

'Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest," said Grandfather. His blue eyes were full of a fire I had never seen before.

'Look at it from my point of view,' said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. 'I'm under a lot of pressure. I've got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Wouldn't be doing my duty –'

'Take me?' Hagrid questioned. He was trembling. 'Take me where?'

'For a short stretch only,' said Fudge, not meeting Hagrid's eyes. 'Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology –'

'Not Azkaban?' Hagrid croaked.

Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door.

Grandfather answered it, while Ron and I shared mutely looks of revulsion. How could they even think about locking Hagrid away? He was innocent!

Turned out that it was Lucius Malfoy who had knocked at the door seeing as he was now standing inside.

'Already here, Fudge,' he said approvingly. 'Good, good. . .'

'What're you doin' here?' Hagrid said furiously. 'Get outta my house!'

'Believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your - er - d'you call this a house?' Lucius sneered as he looked around the small cabin. 'I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here.'

'And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?' Grandfather questioned politely.

'Dreadful thing, Dumbledore,' Lucius said lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, 'but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension - you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Another one this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school.'

'If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside.'

'You can't, sir!' I exclaimed, unable to stay quiet any longer. Lucius jumped slightly. He hadn't seen Ron and me until now. 'If you go there will be an attack a day!'

'It's alright, Harri.' Grandfather smiled kindly and confidently over at me. 'Just remember that you will find that help will always be available for those who ask for it.'

'Admirable words,' Lucius said in a bored tone, holding the door open for Grandfather.

Grandfather silently left.

With Grandfather and Lucius gone, Fudge turned back to Hagrid.

'Come now, Hagrid,' he said.

'If anyone was lookin' for some answers, all they'd have to do is follow the spiders,' Hagrid said suddenly, glancing at Ron and I, before leaving the hut with a bewildered Fudge, who had forgotten all about us.

'So much for us having to be supervised going back to the castle,' Ron grumbled. 'Come on, we might as well head back. If we're lucky, no teachers will notice us.'

He headed for the door and was about to leave when he saw me staring at a nearby window.

'Earth to Harry.'

'Look,' I said, pointing at the window sill. There were numerous spiders trying to get out.

'So what?' Ron asked uncomfortably.

'Didn't you hear what Hagrid said? He said for us to follow the spiders, so let's go!'

I ran outside and Ron hesitantly followed me.

Once outside, I looked back at the window and then watched as the spiders entered the forest. Without even looking to see if Ron was behind me, I hurried after them, muttering '_Lumos_,' as I went. By the glow of my wand, Ron and I followed the steady trickle of spiders moving along the path. We walked behind them for about twenty minutes, not speaking, listening hard for noises other than breaking twigs and rustling leaves. Then, when the trees had become thicker than ever, so that the stars overhead were no longer visible, and my wand shone alone in the sea of dark, we saw our spider guides leaving the path.

Without thinking, I followed them, with Ron trying to convince me to forget about the spiders and for us to return to the castle. I stubbornly ignored him. I would not allow Hagrid to be locked away for something he didn't do. True, Hagrid loved monsters, but I knew that he would never let one lose in the castle.

We followed the darting shadows of the spiders into the trees. Unfortunately we couldn't move very quickly now; there were tree roots and stumps in our way, barely visible in the near blackness. After a while, we noticed that the ground seemed to be sloping downward, though the trees were as thick as ever.

It was then that we heard something in the shadows.

'What was that?' Ron asked panicked stricken, looking around into the pitch-dark, and gripping my elbow very hard.

'There's something moving over there,' I breathed. 'Listen... sounds like something big…'

We listened. Some distance to our right, the something big was snapping branches as it carved a path through the trees.

Ron was now starting to panic.

It was at this time that I began to wonder who the boy here was.

The darkness seemed to be pressing on our eyeballs as we stood, terrified, waiting. There was a strange rumbling noise and then silence.

'What d'you think it's doing? I asked in a whisper to Ron.

'Probably getting ready to pounce,' replied Ron.

We waited, shivering, hardly daring to move.

'D'you think it's gone?' Ron whispered.

'No, it's still there,' I muttered. 'I can just make out something…'

Then, to our right, came a sudden blaze of light, so bright in the darkness that we both flung up our hands to shield our eyes.

'Harry!' Ron shouted, his voice breaking with relief. 'Harry, it's our car!'

'What?'

'Come on!'

I followed Ron toward the light, stumbling and tripping, and a moment later we had emerged into a clearing.

Mr Weasley's car was standing, empty, in the middle of a circle of thick trees under a roof of dense branches, its headlights ablaze. As Ron walked, open-mouthed, toward it, it moved slowly toward him, exactly like a large, turquoise dog greeting its owner.

'It's been here all the time!' Ron said delightedly, walking around the car. 'Look at it. The forest's turned it wild.'

The sides of the car were scratched and smeared with mud. Apparently it had taken to trundling around the forest on its own.

'And we thought it was going to attack us!' said Ron, leaning against the car and patting it. 'I wondered where it had gone!'

'Who cares? We've got to follow those spiders,' I said before walking off.

Ron quickly hurried after me.

The spiders ended up leading us to the ridge of a vast hollow, a hollow that had been cleared of trees, so that the stars shone brightly onto the worst scene we had ever laid eyes on. There were spiders everywhere, and not tiny spiders like those surging over the leaves below. They were the size of carthorses, eight-eyed, eight-legged, black, hairy, and gigantic.

From the middle of the misty, domed web, a spider the size of a small elephant emerged, very slowly. There was grey in the black of his body and legs, and each of the eyes on his ugly, pincer head was milky white. He was blind.

'Hagrid, is that you?' he asked.

'We're a friend of Hagrid's,' I replied, trying to remain calm.

Ron, however, was having trouble to remain calm. It was as though he had walked into one of his nightmares, times ten. He hated spiders with a passion and wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run. To prevent himself from doing this, he was standing uncomfortably close to me and had a killer grip on my left arm.

'Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before,' the spider said slowly.

'Hagrid's in trouble,' I explained. 'That's why we've come.'

'In trouble?' the aged spider questioned. 'But why has he sent you?'

'Because we are the only ones who can help him,' I replied. 'Up at the school, they think that Hagrid's been setting something on students. They've taken him to Azkaban.'

Aragog clicked his pincers furiously, and all around the hollow the sound was echoed by the crowd of spiders.

'But that was years ago,' Aragog said fretfully. 'I remember it well. That's why they made him leave the school. They believed that I was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid had opened the Chamber and set me free, but I was not born in the castle. I came from a distant land. A traveller gave me to Hagrid when I was an egg. When I was discovered, and blamed for the death of a girl, who died in a bathroom, he protected me. I have lived here in the forest ever since.'

'You wouldn't happen to know what did kill that girl, would you,' I asked hopefully. 'Because whatever it is, it's back and attacking people again.'

'The thing that lives in the castle,' Aragog responded gruffly. 'It is an ancient creature; a creature we spiders fear above all others. We do not speak of it and we do not name it!'

_Why does this remind me of Voldemort? _ I thought, before addressing the elderly spider.

'We thank you for your help,' I said with a slight bow, before turning to leave, pulling Ron along with me, put we found our path blocked by the spider family.

I looked back at Aragog questioning, while trying not to panic. Had Ron and I walked to our deaths?

'My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command,' the old spider explained, 'but I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Good-bye, friends of Hagrid.'

I looked back at the solid wall of spiders with their many eyes gleaming in their ugly black heads. Even as I reached for my wand, I knew that it was no good for there were too many of them.

'Do you have any ideas?' Ron asked me. He too had taken out his wand, but his hand was shaking that badly that he was having trouble holding it still.

'No,' I admitted. I was trying to do some quick thinking, but I saw no possible way out of this situation.

My thoughts were interrupted when a loud, long note sounded, and a blaze of light flamed through the hollow. Mr Weasley's car was thundering down the slope, headlights glaring, its horn screeching, knocking spiders aside; several were thrown onto their backs with their legs waving in the air. The car screeched to a halt in front of Ron and me, before the doors flew open.

We dove into the car, Ron in the driver's seat and me into the passenger's seat. The moment we were inside, the car doors slammed shut and the car sped up the slope, out of the hollow, and we were soon crashing through the forest, branches whipping the windows as the car wound its way cleverly through the widest gaps, following a path it obviously knew.

I looked sideways at Ron, whose mouth was still open in a silent scream.

'Are you okay?' I asked.

Ron stared straight ahead, unable to speak.

When we reached the edge of the forest I immediately got out and, after a minute or so, Ron seemed to regain the feeling in his limbs and followed, still stiff-necked and staring. I gave the car a grateful pat as it reversed back into the forest and disappeared from view.

'Follow the spiders,' Ron growled angrily, finally finding his voice. 'If Hagrid ever gets out of Azkaban, I'll kill him! I'll never forgive him! We're lucky to be alive!'

'He probably thought that Aragog wouldn't hurt friends,' I said patiently.

'That's exactly Hagrid's problem!' Ron snapped. 'He always thinks monsters aren't as bad as they're made out, and look where it's got him! It got him a cell in Azkaban!' He was shivering uncontrollably now. 'What was the point of sending us in there, anyway? What have we found out?'

'Ron, you do not have to be Hermione to figure that out,' I replied. 'We now know that Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets. He was innocent.'

'If you call hatching Aragog in a cupboard innocent,' Ron grumbled.

I gave him a look as we returned to the Gryffindor Common Room.

'That's the least of our problems. Our main problem is finding out who the attacker is.'

'Pity there's no one we can ask who was here fifty years ago,' Ron muttered.

'Or maybe there is,' I muttered, thinking back to what Aragog said. 'Remember what Aragog said about that girl who died in a bathroom fifty years ago?'

'What about her?'

'What if she never left?'

Ron stared at me blankly, before his eyes widened with understanding.

'You don't think - not Moaning Myrtle?'

'That is exactly who I was thinking about.'

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 19 November 2012  
><strong>Updated:<strong> N/A**  
>Beta:<strong> BETA WANTED

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	15. Slytherin's Secret Chamber

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN: SLYTHERIN'S SECRET CHAMBER**

By the next morning, Ron's mood had not improved and he was still annoyed that after all the trouble we had gone to, in order to find the attacker, we merely had to ask Myrtle. To make matters worse, he wasn't entirely thrilled when I told him that we needed to try and get her bathroom to see her. He thought that dealing with spiders had been a close thing, but escaping our teachers long enough to sneak into a girls' bathroom, right next to the scene of the first attack, was going to be almost impossible. Then, to make his mood increase even more, we discovered that our exams were still being held regardless of all the attacks and Grandfather's sacking.

When questioned why, Grandmother merely replied, sternly, 'Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible, and that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year.'

However, that afternoon, Ron and I were given the perfect opportunity to speak to Moaning Myrtle, when we were being led to History of Magic by Lockhart.

Lockhart, who had so often assured us that all danger had passed, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see us safely down the corridors. His hair wasn't as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor. This proved my theory even more that what he said in his books was a load of rubbish.

'Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary,' he was telling us.

'I agree with you, sir,' I said, making Ron drop his books in surprise. It was time for me to test out my manipulation skills, not that Lockhart was much of a challenge.

'Thank you, Harry,' Lockhart replied graciously while we waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. 'I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night.'

'You are absolutely right, sir,' I continued, making Ron stare at me. 'So why don't you leave us here, sir? We've only got one more corridor to go.'

'You know, Harry, I think I will. I really should go and prepare my next class.

He hurried off.

'Prepare his class,' I sneered after him, 'More likely he's gone to curl his hair.'

We let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of us, before I grabbed Ron's arm and darted down a side passage to hurry off toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. However, just as Ron was congratulating me on my brilliant scheme…

'Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?'

I flinched slightly and turned around to look at my grandmother, whose her mouth was in the thinnest of thin lines.

'We were -we were-' Ron stammered. 'We were going to - to go and see –'

'Hermione,' I said.

Ron and Grandmother both looked at me.

'We haven't seen her for ages, Professor,' I said quickly, treading on Ron's foot, 'and we thought we'd sneak into the Hospital Wing to see her.'

Grandmother stared at me, as though trying to see if I was lying, and for a moment, I thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice.

'Of course,' she said, tears glistening in her beady eye. 'I realise this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been... I quite understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Binns where you've gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission.'

Ron and I walked away, hardly daring to believe that we had avoided detention. As we turned the corner, we distinctly heard Grandmother blow her nose.

'That,' Ron said fervently, 'was the best story you've ever come up with. I can't believe she fell for it!'

I didn't say anything. I myself was surprised that she believed me, but I guess it was because she wasn't expecting me to lie to her about something like and probably because I was her only grandchild. I wondered if she would have shown the same generosity and favouritism if it had only been Neville asking.

In the end, we had no choice now but to go to the Hospital Wing and tell Madam Pomfrey that we had Grandmother's permission to visit Hermione. This turned out to be a very lucky trip. It was there that we found some interesting information… information that Hermione had clutched in her right hand.

Making sure that Madam Pomfrey was nowhere near, I pointed this out to Ron, before I tried to remove the scrunched up parchment from her hand. This proved to be a difficult task for Hermione's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that I was sure I was going to tear it. While Ron kept watch I tugged and twisted, and at last, after several tense minutes, the paper came free.

It turned out to be a page torn from a very old library book. I smoothed it out eagerly and Ron leaned close to read it, too. It spoke of the most curious and most deadly Basilisks. It described it in create detail, but certain phrases seemed to jump out at me. Phrases that helped explain the terrible events that had been happening this year. Phrases such as, "Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy," and "the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it" – hadn't Hagrid's roosters been killed around the same time the attacks started? Finally, I noted a single word had been written, in a handwriting I recognised as Hermione's; "Pipes."

'Ron,' I breathed, hardly able to control my excitement. 'This is it. This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber's a basilisk - a giant serpent, which why I've been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's because I understand Parseltongue.'

I paused when I realised what I had said. I wasn't the only Parseltongue in the school, which means Uncle Severus and Grandmother must have heard the voice too, wouldn't they?

'The basilisk kills people by looking at them in the eyes,' Ron muttered, reading the page again. 'But no one's died… so how can it be the monster?'

What Ron said made perfect sense. If the creature truly did kill by looking in the eye, how was it that no one was dead? I thought back to all the attacks, trying to think of something they had in common. After a few moments of silence, I realised why no one had been killed.

'No one looked it straight in the eye,' I said slowly.

Ron looked at me quickly.

'Colin saw it through his camera,' I explained. 'The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin was only petrified. Justin... Justin must've seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick, who got the full blast of it, but he couldn't die again... and Hermione was found with a mirror next to her. She must have just realised what the monster was so she pulled out her mirror and used it to look around corners first!'

'What about Mrs Norris?' Ron asked. 'I'm pretty sure she didn't have a mirror or a camera, Harry.'

'True, but the floor was covered in water. I bet you anything that Mrs Norris only saw the basilisk's reflection.'

'But how's the basilisk been getting around the place?' asked Ron. 'Someone would have seen a great, big, giant serpent moving about.'

'It's not using the corridors, Ron,' I said showing him the bottom of the page where Hermione had written "Pipes." 'Remember, I have been hearing the basilisk in the walls.'

Ron suddenly grabbed my arm.

'The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!' he said hoarsely. 'What if it's a bathroom? What if it's in –'

'Moaning Myrtle's bathroom,' I concluded.

We sat there, excitement coursing through us, hardly able to believe it.

'This means you can't be the only Parselmouth in the school,' Ron informed me. 'The Heir of Slytherin's one, too. That's how he's been controlling the basilisk.' He looked around. 'What do we do now?'

'We should go to the staff room and wait for the professors,' I said firmly, getting to my feet.

As we were heading to the staff room, Grandmother's urgent voice echoed through the corridors.

'All students are to return to their House dormitories immediately!' she ordered. 'All staff to the second floor corridor!'

Ron and I paled as we looked at each other, before we mutely ran to the second floor corridor and hid. The teachers arrived moments after us.

'It has happened,' Grandmother informed the silent staff, motioning to the wall on which the first message from the Heir of Slytherin was written. 'A student has been taken by the monster right into the Chamber itself.'

Flitwick let out a squeal, while Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. The other teachers, however, paled dramatically as they looked at the wall.

'Who is it?' Madam Hooch dared to ask.

'Ginny Weasley,' Grandmother replied, trying not to cry.

'But why would they take Miss Weasley?' Uncle Severus wondered aloud. 'She is a pureblood.'

'I do not know, Severus, but we _must_ send all students home tomorrow,' replied Grandmother.

'So sorry - dozed off - what have I missed?'

Lockhart had just arrived at the scene and didn't seem to notice that the other teachers were looking at him with something remarkably like hatred. Uncle Severus stepped forward.

'Just the man we were after,' he said. 'A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Your moment has come at last.'

'My – my moment,' Lockhart blanched.

'That's right, weren't you saying just the other night that you've known where the Chamber has been all along?' Uncle Severus continued innocently. 'I also recall you saying that you even know what the monster is.'

'That's right, Gilderoy,' Sprout chipped in. 'I remember you telling me the exact same thing.'

'I - well, I –' Lockhart sputtered.'

'Yes, I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested,' piped up Professor Flitwick. 'Didn't you say that the whole affair had been inferior, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?'

Lockhart stared around at his stony-faced colleagues.

'I - I really never - you may have misunderstood –'

'We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy,' Grandmother said coldly. 'Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself.'

Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn't look remotely handsome anymore. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his usually toothy grin, he looked weak-chinned and feeble.

'V-very well,' he said. 'I'll - I'll be in my office, getting-getting ready.'

He practically ran from the corridor, and moments later, the other teachers sadly left as well as they had work to do.

With the teachers gone, Ron and I crept out from our hiding spot and looked at the wall.

Written in what looked like blood, right underneath the first message, was a single sentence that made Ron and I pale even more than we already were.

_Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever._

I looked at Ron and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

'Let's go to Lockhart,' I said quietly. 'He may be useless, but he is the only hope we have for finding Ginny. We have to tell him what we know.'

Ron looked blankly at me, and at first I wondered if he had even heard what I had said, but he soon nodded to me. He clearly didn't trust himself to speak.

By the time we reached Lockhart's office night had fallen and there seemed to be a lot of activity going on within. We could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps, though everything fell silent when I knocked on the door. The door opened the tiniest crack and we saw one of Lockhart's eyes peering through it.

'Oh - Harry – Weasley –' he said, opening the door a little bit wider. 'I'm rather busy at the moment - if you would be quick –'

'We've got some information for you,' I said bluntly. 'We think it'll help you when you rescue Ginny from the Chamber.'

Lockhart suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

'You are going to rescue her, aren't you?' I asked suspiciously.

'Er, well, you see, I just got an urgent call - unavoidable - got to go –'

'What about my sister?' Ron demanded angrily.

'Well, as to that - most unfortunate -' Lockhart said avoiding our eyes. 'No one regrets more than I –'

'You're the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!' I reminded him. 'You're meant to help the school through dark times!'

'I have to say, that when I took the job, there was nothing in the job description about this!'

'I don't believe you!' I yelled. 'How can you live with yourself knowing that you let an innocent girl die?'

Lockhart just stared down at my furious face.

'Yeah, that's what I thought,' I said coldly. 'Come on, Ron. Let's go and tell the other professors what we have discovered.'

As I turned to go, Lockhart stepped out of his office and grabbed my arm.

'Let go of me!' I growled.

'I'm afraid that I cannot allow you to leave,' Lockhart informed us.

'And what are you going to do? Set some pixies on us?' Ron asked sarcastically. 'Face it; there is nothing you can do. Harry was right all along. You are just a pathetic, untalented fraud.'

'That is where you are wrong, Weasley. I am, in fact, very talented at Memory Charms. Unfortunately, I will have to do use it on you. I cannot have you telling the other professors and ruining everything I have worked so hard to create.'

He now had his wand pointed at me.

Eyes narrowed, I moved quickly grabbed his wand arm and broke his wrist. Dudley had broken my risk on a couple occasions, which meant I had firsthand experience in breaking wrists.

Lockhart cried out in pain and let go of me and his wand. He looked at me, horrified.

'You forget, _Professor_, I was raised by Muggles. I know how to defend myself without magic,' I told him coldly.

_It also helps that I am a Valkyrie, _I added silently in my head as Ron aimed his wand at the Defence professor.

'What d'you want me to do?' Lockhart asked weakly. 'I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do.'

'You're in luck,' I replied, forcing Lockhart out of his office and towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. 'We believe we know where it is and what's inside it.'

When we arrived outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom we sent Lockhart in first. I was pleased to see that he was shaking. This proved how much I despised him.

Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.

'Oh, it's you,' she said when she saw me. 'What do you want this time?'

_That was rude,_ I thought.

'To ask you how you died,' I replied.

Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.

'Oh, it was dreadful,' she responded with relish. 'I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny, like another language. I realised it was a boy speaking, so I unlocked the door to tell him to go away and I died.'

'How?'

'I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes, over there by that sink.'

I went over to the said sink and began to examine it. At first it looked like any other sink, but when I tried to turn the water on, nothing happened. I then felt the tap and found the symbol of a snake, though it could have been a basilisk.

'We found it, Ron!' I whispered excitedly, turning to the equally excided Ron and terrified Lockhart.

'Say something in Parseltongue,' Ron said suddenly.

'But, Ron, I have never spoken Parseltongue except when I am face to face with an actual snake!'

'You've been speaking Parseltongue in your sleep lately,' Ron admitted.

I was surprised by that piece of information.

I ended up imagining that the tiny engraving of the snake was real.

'Open up,' I said before looking at Ron, who shook his head.

'English.'

Clicking my tongue in annoyance, I looked back at the snake, willing myself to believe it was alive. If I moved my head, the candlelight made it look as though it were moving.

'Open up.'

This time I did not need to look at Ron for confirmation, for the moment I spoke the tap blazed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. The sink then began to move; it sank right out of sight leaving a large pipe exposed. It was wide enough for an adult to slide into.

Ron and Lockhart gasped.

'I'm going down there,' I declared.

I knew that I had to get down there. There was still a chance that Ginny was still alive, though she did have selfish reason for going. She needed to satisfy her Valkyrie instincts from the thirst of adventure.

'I going with you,' Ron announced stubbornly.

There was a pause.

'Well, you hardly seem to need me,' Lockhart said with a shadow of his old smile. 'I'll just –'

He put his hand on the door knob, but Ron and I both pointed our wands at him.

'You can go first,' Ron snarled.

White-faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening.

'Boys,' he said in a feeble voice, 'what good will this do?'

'If you die down there, we'll know not to follow,' I replied.

Lockhart wasn't able to argue with that and he did have time to either, for Ron pushed him and he slid out of sight. We then stood there waiting for a sign to know that it was safe to go down.

'You two are coming down, aren't you?' we heard Lockhart call out, worriedly, from down below.

Seeing as Lockhart was still alive and that he was screaming in terror, I lowered myself into the pipe and let go. The journey down was like being rushed down an endless, slimy, dark slide; where all I could see were more pipes branching off in all directions. None of them were as large as the one I was in. Behind me I could hear Ron, thudding slightly at the curves and screaming.

When I got to the end, the pipe levelled out, and I shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. Lockhart was standing a short distance away, covered in slime and white as a ghost. I made sure to stand aside as Ron came whizzing out of the pipe, too.

'Lumos!' I muttered, staring into the darkness ahead.

For a while I stood there staring at the tunnel ahead, thinking. Having made up my mind, I motioned for my companions to follow me as I headed into the unknown.

'Remember to close your eyes, immediately, at any sign of movement,' I reminded them. 'We have no idea where the basilisk could be hidden.'

We walked in silence for a few minutes, before Ron grabbed my arm, pointing up ahead.

'Harry - there's something up there,' he whispered hoarsely.

We froze, watching. I could see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving. I glanced back at the other two. Lockhart's hands were pressed over his eyes while Ron had his eyes narrowed, ready to close them at a moment's notice.

I turned back to look at the thing and, my heart beating so fast it hurt, I slowly edged forward, my wand held high. The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.

I looked back at the other two.

'Relax, it's only a snake skin,' I informed them.

I then watched as Lockhart's knees had given way.

I rolled my eyes as did Ron. Out of all the teachers we were stuck with, we had to be stuck with one who didn't have enough courage to fill a thimble.

'Get him up,' I said to Ron, turning back to look down the passage.

'Get up,' Ron ordered sharply, pointing his wand at Lockhart.

I heard Lockhart get to his feet before Ron cried out. I turned around and found Ron lying on the ground and his wand aimed at me. Lockhart was smiling triumphantly at me as he aimed Ron's wand.

'The adventure ends here, boys!' he informed us. 'I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body - say good-bye to your memories!'

He raised Ron's Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, '_Obliviate_!'

The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. I dove out of the way as great chunks of the tunnel's ceiling came thundering to the ground. As a result, I ended up gazing at a solid wall of broken rock, completely alone.

'Ron!' I shouted urgently. 'Are you okay? Ron!'

'I'm okay,' I heard Ron's muffled voice from behind the rock fall. 'The git's not, though. He got blasted by the wand.'

''Serves him right,' I muttered.

'What now?' Ron's voice questioned, sounding desperate. 'We can't get through - it'll take ages.'

'You wait there with Lockhart,' I told Ron. 'I'll go on and find Ginny. While I'm gone, see if you can try and make a passage through these rocks. If I'm not back in an hour, find a way out and go to Snape or McGonagall.'

'Why them?'

'Just trust me. I know what I'm doing.'

''Kay.'

Taking a deep breath, I set off, alone, past the giant snake skin. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in my body was tingling unpleasantly. I wanted the tunnel to end and yet I dreaded what I would find when it did.

As I crept around yet another bend, I saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

I approached with a dry throat.

Guessing what I needed to do, I cleared my throat, and ordered it to open.

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight. Shaking, I walked through the entrance and found myself standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Gigantic stone columns were twisted with more carved serpents that rose to support a ceiling which lost in darkness. They casted long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

Knowing that the basilisk could be lurking in any of the shadowy corners, behind any pillar, I pulled out my wand and moved cautiously forward between the serpentine columns. While I moved forward, I kept my eyes open for Ginny, but I was also prepared to close them at a moment's notice.

As I drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. I had to crane my neck to look up into the giant face above. It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. Between the feet, facedown, laid a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

'Ginny!' I muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to my knees.

I unwisely flung my wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. I hurriedly checked for a pulse. I found one, but it was weak.

'Ginny, please wake up,' I said desperately, shaking her.

Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

'She won't wake,' said a soft voice.

I jumped and spun around on my knees.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though I were looking at him through a misted window.

'What d'you mean, she won't wake?' I asked the boy desperately.

'She's only just alive,' the boy replied, walking towards me.

'Who are you?' I questioned suspiciously.

'I'm known as Tom Riddle,' he replied, slightly avoiding my question of who he was.

'And how did you get down here?'

'Ginny brought me down here,' Tom answered, nodding to an old diary in Ginny's arms. 'I am but a memory that has been preserved in a diary for fifty years.'

For a second I wondered it was possible for me to be talking to a memory, but seeing as there were more pressing matters to deal with, I pushed the thought aside.

'You've got to help me, Tom,' I said quickly. 'We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk ... I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment ... Please, help me!'

Tom didn't move. Instead, he stood there watching my and twirling my wand between his long fingers.

'What are you doing with my wand?' I asked suspiciously. Something didn't feel right, and suddenly a new, more serious question occurred to me. 'How did Ginny get like this?'

'Well, that's an interesting question,' said Tom, 'and quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger.'

'What are you talking about?'

'My diary,' Tom explained nodding to the diary in Ginny's frozen arms. 'Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes – how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second-hand robes and books, and how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her…'

I glanced down at Ginny wondering why she thought that I didn't like her. That was until I realised that Tom wasn't talking about liking as a friend. I shifted uncomfortably.

'It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven year old girl,' Tom went on, 'but I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me and, if I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than her. In fact, I grew powerful enough to start feeding her a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her.'

'What are you talking about?'

'I forgot that twelve year olds need things spelt out to them.' Tom sighed, before explaining what he meant. 'It was Ginny Weasley who opened the Chamber of Secrets and wrote the threatening messages on the walls. She was the one who set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat. But let me put your young mind at ease. She, of course, didn't know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries. They were far more interesting than those I had been forced to listen to in the past.'

'You used her? How could you? And why would you want the monster set upon those innocent students!' I demanded angrily.

'Isn't it obvious yet, Harry? I am the Heir of Slytherin, but those Mudbloods weren't my target. For many months now, my target has been you.'

I stared at him, taken back. Why had he been after me?

'I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled, cried, and became very boring, but there isn't much life left in her. She put too much into the diary, into me, enough to let me leave its pages at last. I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry.'

'Such as?'

'Well, how is it that a baby, with no extraordinary magical talent, managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?'

There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now.

'Why do you care how I escaped?' I asked with a hint of anger in my tone. 'Voldemort was after your time.'

'No, Harry. Voldemort is my past, present and future.'

He pulled my wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

My eyes widened, and I looked up at him fearfully. He was Voldemort. I knew that I was in big trouble now.

'It is the name I fashioned myself while I was at school,' Tom said carelessly. 'It was a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world, and from what Weasley has told me, I have become just that.'

'No you haven't,' I growled. 'My grandfather is the greatest wizard in the world, and I'm sure my uncle will become one too. You'll never be a great wizard!'

'And who is your grandfather?' Tom demanded.

'The man that you fear most,' I replied.

Tom stared at me for a moment, before his eyes widened with shock.

'You are Albus Dumbledore's grandson?' he whispered.

'Granddaughter,' I corrected, showing him who I really was. I would need all my strength to get out of here alive.

'A Valkyrie!' Tom looked amazed. 'Who is your father?' he demanded suddenly.

'James Dumbledore.'

Tom studied my face carefully.

'You don't know who I really am, do you?' he asked quietly.

'Yes I do!' I snapped. 'You are a monster and a killer!'

'Has your grandfather ever mentioned me to you?' he asked curiously.

'Why would he?'

Tom chuckled coldly as he looked me up and down.

He then muttered a spell that I had heard Uncle Severus use countless times. A spell used to drop a Glamour.

My anger vanished and was replaced with astonishment as I looked upon the face of someone who looked like a younger version of Uncle Severus.

'I see Father never spoke of me, my niece.'

My jaw dropped.

It couldn't be true! Why didn't anyone tell me? I could not believe that my own uncle had murdered my parents and attempted to murder me on two occasions, though it was more likely three occasions now.

'Though it does not surprise me that my father has not spoken of me,' Uncle Tom continued. 'Father's compassion has always made him weak. It is one of the reasons why he has been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!'

'He'll never be gone!' I retorted. 'Not as long as those who remain are loyal to him!'

Uncle Tom opened his mouth, but froze.

Music was coming from somewhere. Uncle Tom whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, and unearthly; it lifted the hair on my scalp and made my heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Flames then erupted at the top of the nearest pillar. A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle.

A second later, the bird was flying straight at me. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at my feet before flying away.

'Fawkes?' Uncle Tom and I said in unison. Fawkes was Grandfather's phoenix.

We then looked down at me feet and saw that the ragged thing was in fact the Sorting Hat.

At first we were silent, but Uncle Tom broke that silence when he started laughing.

'Father mustn't care that much about you if this is all he sends you!' He laughed. 'He must have become senile in his old age.'

I didn't reply. I could not see how Fawkes and the Sorting Hat would help me. Grandfather must have a good reason to send them to me.

'Now, my dear, I'm going to teach you a little lesson,' Uncle Tom said, walking away before stopping between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. 'Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.'

Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving as his mouth opened, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole and revealing something that was stirring inside. Something was slithering up from its depths. I watched as the basilisk hit the stone floor of the Chamber.

'Kill her,' Uncle Tom ordered.

The basilisk was moving toward me. I could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. I turned my back on it and ran forward, only to trip and fall painfully to the ground. Then, just as I felt the basilisk above me, Fawkes reappeared and dove straight at the monster above me.

I then heard the basilisk hissing madly behind me. Little did I know, Fawkes' long golden beak sank out of sight, into the monster's eye, and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor.

'NO!' I heard Uncle Tom scream. 'LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE GIRL IS BEHIND YOU. YOU CAN STILL SMELL HER. KILL HER!'

The blinded serpent swayed, confused, still deadly. Fawkes was circling its head, piping his eerie song, jabbing here and there at its scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes. I turned to look at the basilisk, before jumping out of the way as its tail came lashing at me.

_I've got to do something, _I thought, looking around desperately for some way to defeat the basilisk.

My eyes fell upon the Sorting Hat and watched in awe as something shimmered within. I made my way over to it and pulled out a gleaming silver sword. Its handle glittered with rubies the size of eggs. It was a beautiful piece of work.

'KILL THE GIRL! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE GIRL IS BEHIND YOU. SNIFF - SMELL HER."

I was on my feet, ready for it to attack. The basilisk's head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted to face me. I could see the vast, bloody eye sockets, see the mouth stretching wide, wide enough to swallow me whole, lined with fangs long as his sword, thin, glittering and venomous.

As predicted, it lunged blindly at me. I dodged and it hit the Chamber wall. It lunged again, and its forked tongue lashed my side. I raised the sword in both my hands with my Valkyrie instincts now in full effect. The basilisk lunged again, and this time its aim was precise. I threw my whole weight behind the sword and drove the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth. However, as warm blood drenched my arms, I felt a searing pain just above his elbow. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into my arm and it splintered as the basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor.

Tears shimmering in my pained, emerald eyes, I slid down the wall as I ripped out the poisoned fang, but I knew it was too late. White-hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound. Even as I made my way slowly back to Ginny, my vision went foggy. The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull colour.

'It's amazing how quickly the venom of the basilisk penetrates the body,' Uncle Tom said quietly, when I came to a halt next to Ginny. 'You have little more than a minute to live, if that.'

I turned and glared at him.

'How can you be so cold hearted?' I asked. 'I am your niece and you are happy enough to watch me die!'

Some sort of emotion flickered in his hazel eyes as he stared down at me. In fact, he looked a little torn. Was the teenaged Uncle Tom less evil than the adult uncle? Did he still have some human remorse and scruples?

We stood staring at each other, though I broke I contact when Fawkes landed on the ground next to me.

'You were brilliant, Fawkes,' I told him fondly. 'I just wasn't quick enough.'

Fawkes looked at me before he laid his beautiful head on the spot where the serpent's fang had pierced me and began to cry. I watched in amazement as me vision slowly came back and my wound healed, after all, phoenix tears did have healing powers.

I quickly looked at my teenaged uncle and saw him staring at the healed wound. He had surely known what Fawkes was capable of yet he did nothing to stop and prevent the phoenix. However, he did jump back and started yelling as Fawkes began to attack him.

For a while I watched as the teenaged Uncle Tom struggling, before my eyes fell upon his diary again. Then, without thinking or considering what I was about to do, I seized the basilisk fang on the floor next to me and plunged it straight into the heart of the book. This resulted in a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in gushes flooding the floor.

I looked at my teenaged uncle; he was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then he was gone. My wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence, except for the sound of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a hole right through it.

Shaking all over, I looked over at Ginny as a faint moan escaped her lips. I rapidly became Harry Potter once more and only just in time. Seconds later Ginny's bemused eyes opened and travelled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over me, in my blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in my hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.

"Harry - it was me, Harry - but I - I s-swear I d-didn't mean to - R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over - and – how did you kill that - that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary –'

'It's alright, Ginny,' I said soothingly, holding up the diary, and showing her the fang hole. 'You're safe now. Riddle and the basilisk won't ever bother the school or you again. Come now, let's get out of here.'

I gently helped her to her feet and led her out of the Chamber, stopping briefly to pick up the Sorting Hat.

Fawkes was waiting for us, hovering in the Chamber entrance.

I heard the stone doors close behind us with a soft hiss.

After a few minutes' progress up the dark tunnel, a distant sound of slowly shifting rock reached my ears.

'Ron!' I yelled, speeding up. 'I've got her!'

I heard Ron give a strangled cheer, and we turned the next bend to see his eager face staring through the sizable gap he had managed to make in the rock fall.

'Ginny!' A relieved Ron thrust his arm through the gap in the rock to pull her through first. 'You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened? How - what - where did that bird come from?'

Fawkes had swooped through the gap after Ginny.

'He's Dumbledore's,' I replied following Fawkes through.

'Where did you get that sword from?' he gasped, eyes widening.

'I got it out of the Sorting Hat,' I responded dismissingly, looking around. 'Anyway, where's Lockhart?'

'He's back there.' Ron jerked his head up the tunnel toward the pipe. 'He's in a bad way.'

I looked over at Lockhart and saw him sitting at the mouth of the pipe humming peacefully to himself.

'Let me guess, his memory's gone, isn't it?' I said, shaking my head. Lockhart was indeed the worse teacher in the entire universe.

'Yeah, the Memory Charm backfired. It hit him instead of us. Hasn't got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself.'

'And those around him,' I muttered.

Lockhart peered good-naturedly up at us.

'Hello,' he said. 'Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?'

Ron rolled his eyes and gave me a, 'See what I mean' look.

Shaking my head again, I bent down and looked up the long, dark pipe.

'Do you have any ideas how to get back?' I asked, looking back at Ron.

'No idea.'

I looked at Fawkes who had swooped past me and was now fluttering in front of me. He was waving his long golden tail feathers in my face.

'Are you sure, Fawkes?' I asked.

The phoenix continued to wave his tail feathers in my face.

'Okay, if you're sure.' I turned to the perplexed Ron. 'We've got to hold on to each other. Ginny, grab Ron's hand. You -' I pointed at Lockhart to get his attention '- hold Ginny's other hand.'

Still perplexed, my friends did as I said as I took hold of Fawkes and Ron's hand.

'When you're ready Fawkes,' I said.

Seconds later, Fawkes pulled us up into the air and up the pipe. Ron and Ginny both let out strangled cries, while Lockhart exclaimed, 'This is just like magic!'

The trip up the pipe took a little longer than the trip down, but when Fawkes pulled us out of the pipe, we all let go and landed on the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. From there, Fawkes led us along the corridor. We strode after him, and moments later, found ourselves outside Grandmother's office.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile**  
>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 25 November 2012  
><strong>Updated:<strong> N/A**  
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**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	16. The Reward For Helping a Princess

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE REWARD FOR HELPING A PRINCESS**

When we entered Grandmother's office, there was nothing except silence at first, before there was a scream.

'Ginny!'

Mrs Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire, leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter. I ended up looking past the relieved parents and noticed there were three more occupants in the room. Grandfather was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming masking the relief in his eyes. Next to him was Grandmother who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest, while Uncle Severus remained hidden in the shadows.

As Fawkes went whooshing past my ear and settled on Grandfather's shoulder, I found myself being swept into Mrs Weasley's tight embrace.

'You saved her! How did you do it?' she cried.

'I think we'd all like to know that,' Grandmother said weakly, still clutching her chest. I met her eyes and saw that she was only just restraining herself from following Mrs Weasley's example and embracing me so tightly I would find it hard to breath.

After the slightest hesitation, I gently removed myself from Mrs Weasley's hug, walked over to Grandmother's desk and laid upon it the Sorting Hat, the ruby encrusted sword – which turned out to be Gryffindor's sword -, and what remained of Uncle Tom's diary. I then started telling them everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour I spoke into the spellbound silence, informing the adults of everything that had happened. Of course I tactfully left out the part about revealing that I was a Valkyrie and the discovery that my uncle was a madman.

When I was finished, Grandfather ended up sending Mr and Mrs Weasley to the Hospital Wing with Ginny, before turning to Ron and I. Ron gulped while I moved nervously.

'I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules,' he said, 'which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words.'

Ron and I looked quickly at Grandmother and Uncle Severus, before looking right back at Grandfather.

'You will both receive Special Awards for Services to the School and two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor,' Grandfather continued with a smile.

Ron and I looked at each other, speechless.

'But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure,' Grandfather added. 'Why so modest, Gilderoy?'

Ever since we entered Grandmother's office, Lockhart stood quietly in a corner of the room wearing his vague smile. When Grandfather addressed him, he looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.

'Professor Dumbledore,' Ron began quickly, 'there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart –'

'Am I a professor?' Lockhart said in mild surprise. 'Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?'

'That's one way to put it,' I muttered. I could have sworn Uncle Severus snorted with laughter.

'He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired,' Ron continued to explain quietly.

'Dear me,' said Grandfather, shaking his head, 'impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!'

'Sword?' Lockhart said dimly. 'I haven't got a sword. That boy has, though.' He pointed at me. 'He'll lend you one.'

While Uncle Severus and Grandmother stared at Lockhart, wondering how anyone could be so dim, Grandfather addressed Ron.

'Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary, too, Mr Weasley?'

'Yes sir,' Ron replied, sending me a curious look before leading Lockhart out of the room and to the Hospital Wing.

When Ron and Lockhart were gone, Grandmother pulled me into a bone crushing hug.

'Don't you dare scare us like that ever again!' she scolded, while crying.

'I'm sorry,' I apologised.

'We can understand why you did it, Harri,' Uncle Severus said, coming over to us and prying Grandmother off me. 'We just wished that you had come to us instead. We are a family; you have no need to keep secrets from us.'

'That works both ways,' I said with a hint of coldness to my tone. 'I know who Tom Riddle really is. I know that he is Voldemort and he is my Uncle Tom.'

My family all exchanged looks.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'We were going to tell you when you were older,' Grandfather admitted. 'We didn't believe you were ready to know the truth as you were still settling into our family.'

'Even so, I had the right to know,' I replied bolshily. 'Do you know why my own uncle wants me dead?'

'I have theories, but that is it.'

'Let me guess, you're not going to share any of them with me.' I had a hint of annoyance in my tone.

'Not today, sweet heart, but I will tell you this. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure.'

'Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?' I said, thunderstruck.

'It certainly seems so.'

For a minute, none of us spoke.

'You should go now, Harri,' Uncle Severus said eventually. 'You need food and sleep, and it wouldn't hurt to go and see Madam Pomfrey, either.'

'Do I have too?' I whined.

'It would be wise,' replied Grandfather.

Groaning, I muttered a grudging, 'Goodnight,' and crossed the room to the door. I had just reached for the handle, however, when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall. Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face and cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.

'Dobby!' I exclaimed, finally knowing who his master was.

Dobby gave me something that could have been a smile, before looking nervously up at Lucius. His master looked down at him coldly.

'Good evening, Lucius,' Grandfather greeted pleasantly, making Lucius turn his cold gaze away from Dobby.

'So,' he said, 'you've come back.'

'Well, you see, Lucius,' said Grandfather, 'when the other eleven governors heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and they wanted me back here. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me. Several of them were under the impression that you'd curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place.'

Lucius ignored Grandfather's last comment in favour of inquiring, 'I assume the culprit has been caught?'

'Correct.'

'Well? Who is it?'

'The same person as last time, Lucius,' said Grandfather. 'Only this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else by means of this diary.'

He held up the small black book with the large hole through the centre, watching Lucius closely, as were Uncle Severus and Grandmother. However, I was watching Dobby as he was doing something very strange. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on me; he kept pointing at the diary, then at Lucius, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.

I ended up tuning out of Grandfather and Lucius' conversation in favour of trying to discover what hidden message Dobby was trying to give me. By the end of the conversation, I suddenly understood what the elf was trying to tell me. Nodding to Dobby, I addressed Draco's father.

'Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr Malfoy?' I enquired.

Lucius rounded on me.

'How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?' he snapped.

'Because it was you, who gave it to her,' I replied calmly, 'back in Flourish and Blotts, when you ran into the Weasleys.'

'You should learn not to make such wild accusations when you have no proof,' Lucius told me coldly, before turning to Dobby. 'We're going, Dobby!'

He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. We could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor.

'That poor creature,' Grandmother said sadly.

I stood there staring after Dobby until an idea stuck me.

'Grandfather, can I have that?' I pointed to Uncle Tom's diary.

'Sure,' Grandfather replied, taken back. Even Uncle Severus and Grandmother seemed surprised.

'Thanks.'

I grabbed the diary and dashed out of the office towards Dobby's squeals of pain disappearing around the corner. I caught up with them at the top of the stairs.

'Mr Malfoy,' I said skidding to a halt. 'I've got something for you.'

I forced the diary into Lucius' hand.

'And why would I want this?' he demanded.

'Well, you were the one who gave it away, so I thought that you'd like it back.' I shrugged.

Lucius snarled as he shoved the diary at Dobby.

'You'll meet the same sticky end as your parent's one of these days, Harry Potter,' he informed me softly. 'They were meddlesome fools, too.'

He turned to go.

'Come, Dobby.'

Dobby began to follow him, but I stopped him and said quietly, 'Open the diary.'

Confused, Dobby did so and gasped. Inside was one of my disgusting, slimy socks, though the way he was looking at it one would have thought it were a priceless treasure. As I hurried after them, I ungracefully ripped off my sock and shoved it unnoticeably into the diary.

'Master has given a sock,' said the elf in wonderment.

'What? I didn't give you a -' Lucius broke off when he had turned around and saw the sock in Dobby's hand.

Lucius stood frozen, staring at the elf before he lunged at me.

'You've lost me my servant, boy!'

Dobby quickly jumped in front of me and there was a loud bang. Lucius was thrown backwards and crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. He got up, his face livid, and pulled out his wand, but when he saw the elf raise a threatening hand, he grudgingly stormed off.

'Princess Harrietta freed Dobby!' the elf said shrilly, gazing up at me, moonlight from the nearest window reflected in his orb-like eyes.

'It was the least I could do, Dobby,' I said, grinning down at him. 'Just promise never to try and save my life again.'

The elf's ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile and flung his arms around my middle and hugged me.

'Princess Harrietta is greater by far than Dobby knew!' he sobbed. 'Farewell, Princess!'

With a final loud crack, Dobby disappeared.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-  
><strong>

Grandfather ended up getting all the Heads of Houses to wake up their students for a feast celebrating the end of the Chamber of Secrets and the revival of all the students currently being un-petrified. I had been to several Hogwarts feasts, but never one quite like this. Everybody was in their pyjamas, and the celebration lasted all night. I didn't know whether the best bit was Hermione running toward Ron and me, screaming 'You solved it! You solved it!' or Justin hurrying over from the Hufflepuff table to apologise for suspecting him, or Hagrid turning up at half past three, cuffing Ron and I so hard on the shoulders that we were knocked into our plates of trifle, or Ron's and my four hundred points for Gryffindor securing the House Cup for the second year running, or Grandmother standing up to inform all the students that the exams had been cancelled as a school treat, or Grandfather announcing that, unfortunately, Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news.

The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Hogwarts was back to normal – well as normal as Hogwarts could get - with only a few, small differences such as Defence Against the Dark Arts classes being cancelled and Lucius Malfoy had been sacked as a school governor. Draco was no longer strutting around the school as though he owned the place. On the contrary, he looked resentful and sulky. On the other hand, Ginny Weasley was perfectly happy again.

However, before we knew it, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny and I got a compartment all to ourselves. We made the most of the last few hours in which we were allowed to do magic – though Uncle Severus said that he would turn a blind eye to some magic I could perform back home at Acacia Palace - before the holidays. We played Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Fred and George's Filibuster fireworks, and practiced disarming each other by magic. I was getting very good at it.

Then, the Hogwarts Express slowed and finally stopped. Another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was over, and I knew that the next year would be just as exciting and eventful and the year just past.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile**  
>Azaelia Silmarwen facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 26 November 2012  
><strong>Updated:<strong> N/A**  
>Beta:<strong>

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	17. Summer Holidays II

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: SUMMER HOLIDAYS II**

So far, I wasn't having a good summer. I had already had an argument with Uncle Vernon over chores, and now I was sick with painful stomach pains. I was currently lying curled up on my bed holding my stomach, crying, begging for the pain to go away.

At the time, I figured this was just a normal stomach bug, as I was having diarrhoea too. I figured, like all the rare times I got sick, that I would be very ill for a few days, before it disappeared. But that didn't help me get comfortable, and it also annoyed me.

Uncle Severus was bound to be here soon and I didn't want him or my grandparents to worry about me, but they did.

The moment Uncle Severus arrived and heard that I was sick, he was right by my side, concerned. He told me that once we arrived at Acacia, I was to go straight to bed and he would give me a healing potion.

The car trip to Uncle Severus' place was unenjoyable. The motion of the car only made things worse, despite my uncle's desperate attempts to distract me. However, if I thought the car was bad, than nothing could compare me for the Floo. When I arrived in Acacia, I ended up vomiting all over the floor.

Ignoring my constant apologising and objections, Uncle Severus picked me up and carried me to bed.

'Stay in bed and I will be back soon with something for your stomach,' he said, when he was sure that I was comfortable.

'I'm sorry to be such a bother,' I apologised.

'Don't be sorry, sweetie,' Uncle Severus said softly. 'It's not your fault, and that's what I'm here for… to take care of you. Now hang tight. I'll be back in a minute.'

I watched as Uncle Severus left the room, before changing into my true self. I felt a little better from doing this one simple action and I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn't. In the end, I ended up jumping out of bed and running into my bathroom, to the toilet, feeling as though I need to go, but I didn't.

It was then that I saw it…

Uncle Severus was heading back to my room, carrying a goblet and a potion bottle, when he heard a terrified scream. Knowing that it was my scream, Uncle Severus dropped the bottle and goblet; the bottle smashed into a thousand pieces with its contents stain the hall rug, and ran towards my room. He was scared. He didn't know why I screamed and it worried him. He caught me in his arms as I ran out my bedroom door.

'Harri, what's wrong?' His voice was full of concern as were his eyes as he took in my terrified face.

'I think I'm dying!' I cried as tears fell down my cheeks. I was shaking all over.

'What makes you think that?' Uncle Severus said sharply, though he was gently at the same time.

'I'm bleeding from my you-know.' I gestured downwards awkwardly.

To my utmost amazement, Uncle Severus visibly relaxed, though he looked a little awkward.

'Your Aunt Petunia never gave you the Talk, did she?' he asked.

'Aunt Petunia and I never talk,' I replied, not knowing what he was talking about.

'I thought so. Sweetie, you're not dying.'

'Then why am I bleeding?' I demanded.

'It's normal. It happens to every girl.'

'Uncle Sev, you're talking in riddles. What happens to every girl?'

Uncle Severus became even more uncomfortable.

'I don't think I'm the right person to tell you that,' he replied awkwardly. 'Tell you what. You go back to bed while I go to Hogwarts to get your grandmother and Madam Pomfrey. It would be best if they told you.'

'No! I don't want you to leave me!' I cried, clinging onto his arm like a two year old.

This startled my uncle. He had never seen me so scared or some willing to reach out to someone for help.

'Sweetie, I promise you that it will be okay.'

'I don't care. I want to stay with you. I'm coming with you,' I said stubbornly. I didn't care if I sounded like a spoilt brat.

'Are you sure you will be able to handle the Floo?' he questioned uncertainly.

I nodded my head stubbornly.

'Alright then,' he sighed, changing into his glamour as Snape. 'Let's go then.'

We headed to a nearby fireplace before Flooing into Grandfather's office. Thankfully, I wasn't able to vomit as I had nothing left in my stomach.

Uncle Severus then led me through the familiar corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, all the way to the staff room. He motioned for me to remain quietly outside while he entered. I could still hear everything the staff were saying.

'Severus, what are you doing here?' I heard Grandfather question lightly, though I could hear the hidden notes of worry in his tone. 'We weren't expecting to see you today.'

'Nor was I expecting to come in,' Uncle Severus replied, 'but I need a favour from Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey.'

'What kind of favour?' Madam Pomfrey inquired.

'I am currently looking after my niece and she needs to talk desperately to a motherly figure about an issue. Unfortunately, I cannot help her and I thought you would be able to help me.'

'I didn't know you had a niece, Severus,' Flitwick commented.

'Well clearly I do. If I didn't, I wouldn't be standing here having this conversation,' Uncle Severus replied impatiently.

'We'll see to her now,' Grandmother said calmly. 'I'm sure everyone can manage without us for a while.'

'Of course,' said Grandfather.

The moment Grandmother saw me, and saw how pale I was, she immediately began to panic.

'Harri, what's wrong?' she asked at once.

'Relax, Mother, it's nothing serious,' Uncle Severus informed her, leading the women towards the Hospital Wing. 'She is merely due to have the Talk.'

Understanding immediately washed over the two elderly women's faces.

'In that case, let's hurry over to the Hospital Wing, where we can have a long, private conversation,' Madam Pomfrey said to me, gently.

'Have fun with that,' Uncle Severus said before fleeing. This did not impress me. Why couldn't he stay?

I soon found out why…

Once the Talk was finished, I just stared at the two women before me. I didn't know how to react to such news. However, the first thing I said when I found my voice amused them greatly.

'I don't think you're going to be a great-grandmother,' I informed Grandmother seriously. 'I won't be having kids.'

She laughed.

'You say that now, but one day I'm sure you will change your mind, no matter how stubborn you are.'

'So I'm going to be sick every time I get them?' I groaned.

'Yes and no. Some girls are, some girls aren't. We shall see in time,' Madam Pomfrey replied, 'but if you stay as a male when they are due, you will. When they come, you will need to be female.'

'How am I to do that during school?' I demanded.

'Just tell your friends you are going to see your grandmother as she is very sick,' Grandmother invented. 'I'm afraid there is nothing else we can do.'

'This stinks!' I grumbled.

'Believe us when we say, you're not the only one who thinks that.'

For the week that I had my Periods, my family and I discovered that being around me during this time, was like creeping around a time bomb. At any minute my mood would change in an instant, though it was usually a negative emotion, namely anger. I became very moody and would snap at anyone over the simplest things. Poor Uncle Severus was the last to figure this out and we ended up having a lot of heated arguments in English and Parseltongue. We were all grateful when they were finished.

It was then that the real summer holidays began.

I spent a lot of time hanging out with Uncle Severus, helping him with his potion making, playing wizard games, and I even managed to convince him to play some Quidditch with me. When I beat him, he did not look surprised. It was then that he informed me that my father, James, had gotten all the Quidditch talent, while he had gotten the Potion making talent.

However, the cheerful summer mood was not to last. It was the morning of my birthday, and my family and I were sitting in the lounge room, listening to the Wizarding Wireless Network, while I unwrapped my birthday presents.

As an urgent announcement was heard, we all feel silent.

'_In breaking news, we have just received word that Sirius Black, a murder who was imprisoned twelve years ago for murdering twelve Muggles and a wizard, Peter Pettigrew, with a single curse, has miraculously broken out of Azkaban prison. _

_Muggles have been informed of Black's escape and they have been told that he is dangerous and carrying a gun, which is a kind of metal wand which Muggles use to kill each other._

_If you have any information about Black's whereabouts, contact the Aurors immediately. Aurors also ask that you do not approach Black…'_

I looked around at my family and saw that they were grim, especially Uncle Severus, though he looked as though he was ready to go out looking for Black himself.

Grandfather, however, stood abruptly and left the room without saying a word.

I looked questioningly at Grandmother, who gave me a forced smile.

'He's probably gone to the Ministry,' she said simply, before telling me to go and try on my new clothes so she could see what they looked like on.

I didn't end up seeing Grandfather for the rest of the day and, as for the rest of my family, I could see that they were all very worried, though Uncle Severus looked like he was ready to murder someone.

It wasn't until the next morning that they explained their odd behaviour to me.

'Harri, dear,' Grandfather began as I began to pile some eggs and bacon onto my breakfast plate, 'there is a serious matter that we need to talk to you about.'

I looked up from my breakfast and took in my family's grim faces.

'Does this have anything to do with Black?' I asked curiously.

'It does,' said Grandfather. 'We weren't going to tell you this, but seeing as you insist on knowing the truth about everything that concerns you, we have decided to tell you.'

'Tell me what?'

'Harri, have you ever heard the name, Sirius Black, before?' Uncle Severus questioned with a slight edge to his voice.

'Should I have?'

'Not necessarily. Do you remember that conversation we had about who was to blame for your parents' death at the end of your first year?'

I nodded.

'You will remember, then, that I said that your father's so called best friend was one of the people responsible. Sirius Black was that person.'

'My dad was friends with a murder?' I gasped.

'He wasn't a murderer at the time,' Grandmother said quietly. 'He was quite an intelligent boy and he was like another brother to James. He was James' best man at his wedding and he was even named your godfather.'

'Great, so now I have an uncle and a godfather who are both murders,' I said angrily as I began to shake.

'We were shocked when he betrayed your parents, but your grandfather expected it to occur.'

'You knew what he would betray them?' I turned angrily to Grandfather.

'I knew that someone close to James would betray him,' Grandfather replied sadly. 'When we knew that your uncle was after them, I took all the steps necessary to protect my family, including Fidelius Charm.'

'Huh?'

'It's a spell involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living-soul, the Secret-Keeper,' Grandfather explained. 'Once performed correctly, the secret information cannot be discovered unless the Secret-Keeper reveals it.'

'So basically, Tom could have had his nose right up against your parents' living room window, and still wouldn't be able to find you,' Uncle Severus said bluntly.

'But he was able to find us, wasn't he? My parents' Secret-Keeper blabbed.'

'Black did indeed,' Gran huffed. 'James stubbornly refused to use anyone else, stating that Black would never betray him. He even turned down your grandfather's offer to be his Secret-Keeper. It was barely a week after the Charm had been performed, that Black betrayed them to Tom.'

'So do you think that he has escaped to try and return Uncle Tom to power?' I asked.

'Yes and no,' Grandfather answered. 'Black is unhinged, Harri, and he has somehow gotten it into his mind that by murdering you, he will be able to return Tom to power, at least that is the Aurors' theory.'

'But you don't think it is,' I probed.

'No. We think he is just after revenge or wants to finish off the job,' Uncle Severus growled.

'How do you know this?' I asked as a sudden thought occurred to me.

'The Minister went to Azkaban when Black escaped,' Grandfather replied. 'The guards told him that for a while, now he had been muttering in his sleep the same thing over and over again, "He's at Hogwarts".'

'But what makes you think it's me?' Something didn't seem right to me. 'If he is my godfather, shouldn't he know that I'm a she, not a he?'

'It just shows how little he cares for you,' Uncle Severus said bitterly. 'Needleless to say, you must be cautious this year, though hopefully Black will be found soon.'

But he wasn't.

The summer was almost over and still there had been no sign of Black.

I learnt this from Grandfather, as he raged to Grandmother about having to have creatures called Dementors guarding the school. Hearing this, I went to Uncle Severus to learn what they were and learnt that they were the dreadful guards of Azkaban, who sucked the happiness out of a person until they were left with only their worst memories.

I shuddered at the thought and began to dread what this year would bring. It seemed that I in for another dangerous year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**Let me apologise for the very late updates, but I've never really been a huge fan of _The Prisoner of Azkaban_ so updates in this time period will be slow. I have read over the chapters that will follow this one, so hopefully there isn't any spelling mistakes. if there is, please let me know and I will eventually get around to fixing them.

For those who are still following and enjoying this story, I would like to thank you and state that I am surprised.

**Facebook page: **link on profile  
><strong>Azaelia Silmarwen Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 2 April 2013  
><strong>Updated:<strong> N/A  
><strong>Beta: <strong>N/A

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	18. Year Three Begins

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: YEAR THREE BEGINS**

The summer holidays were soon over and I was once again ready to return to Hogwarts, but I would not be returning with the other students. Paranoid that Black would try to attack me on the train, my family and the Ministry both agreed that it would be safer for me to Floo to Hogwarts and wait there with Grandfather, until the rest of the school arrived. They all agreed that Black would not be stupid enough to attack me while I was with Grandfather.

This, of course, put me in a foul mood. I deemed this protection unnecessary. I didn't think that Black would be able to sneak onto the train, but no one was willing to take the risk. That meant I had to spend the entire day, at Hogwarts, waiting for my friends to arrive. I knew that they would be worried about me not turning up. It didn't cross my mind to send them an owl.

It wasn't all bad, though, as I was able to see some of the preparation the teachers did before we arrived, and I even got to listen in to their conversations. I even participated in a few.

As night fell, Grandmother led me into the Great Hall, where I was able to have the first choice of seat, before she hurried off to meet the first years. The other teachers had already taken their seats. Most of them commented on how awkward and lonely I looked sitting there waiting for my friends.

As the first students began to enter the hall, most of them looked at me, wondering how I got to Hogwarts so fast. Some wondered if I had flown another car to school. Thankfully, Ron and Hermione were able to find me in the crowd. They hurried over and sat either side of me.

'Where have you been?' Hermione demanded. 'We've been so worried!'

'I thought you might have been,' I said apologetically. 'I would have written to you, telling you that I wouldn't be on the train, but it slipped my mind.'

'So why weren't you on the train?' Ron inquired.

'The teachers and Ministry thought that it would be safer this year if I Flooed to Hogwarts and stayed here where they could keep an eye on me,' I replied with a slight edge to my voice.

'Why would they think that?'

Speaking quietly, to avoid being over heard through the racket around us, I told them about Sirius Black being my godfather and how he sold out my family to Uncle Tom. I then told them about how the Ministry thinks that he has escaped Azkaban to murder me.

Ron and Hermione were speechless. After all, how would one react to learning that a murder was after your best friend?

'Harry, you mustn't do anything dangerous this year,' Hermione managed to say eventually. Her eyes were full of worry. 'You can't go looking for trouble –'

'Hermione, you should know better than anyone that trouble usually finds me,' I interrupted impatiently. I had already had this conversation with my family, on separate occasions. I didn't need to have this lecture again. 'Anyway, it's not like I'm going to go out looking for Black. I have no wish to die just yet.'

Before Hermione could reply, the Great Halls doors opened and the new first year students appeared. I watched as they followed Grandmother to the front of the hall, wondering if I had looked as nervous as most of them looked now. One boy looked like he was about to throw up.

I then watched as Grandmother revealed the tattered Sorting Hat. The Hat then sung one of his traditional songs, before falling silent.

'Now when I call your name, you shall come forth, I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be Sorted into your Houses,' Grandmother announced before looking down at the list of names she had in her hand.

Once the Sorting ceremony was complete, Grandmother removed the Sorting Hat and three-legged stool from the Hall. As she took her seat at the Teachers' Table, Grandfather got to his feet to address the silent hall.

'To all the newcomers, welcome,' he began, 'and to the rest, welcome back to a new year at Hogwarts. Before we all become befuddled in your wonderful feast, I have a few notices I wish to announce. Mr Filch has asked me to remind you, that there is to be no magic in the corridors and to familiarise yourself with all the forbidden items –'

'Yeah, that way you have a better chance to annoy him,' George sniggered to Fred and Lee.

'Those wishing to try out for their Quidditch House Team should see their Heads of Houses,' Grandfather continued. 'I am pleased to announce that we have two changes in staff, this year. I am pleased to welcome the appointment of Professor Lupin, who has kindly agreed to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts.'

Lupin got to his feet and acknowledged the polite applause. I noticed that Uncle Severus was giving him dark looks. Ron also noticed.

'Snape doesn't seem to like Professor Lupin,' he commented.

'Probably because he didn't get the post as Defence teacher again,' Seamus answered. He was sitting across from Ron. 'I have to admit, however, that he seems to dislike him even more than he did Quirrell and Lockhart.'

I stared at Lupin's tired face. I had accidently overheard Uncle Severus informing Grandfather how he didn't trust the appointment of Lupin, but I never found out why as Grandfather had conveniently interrupted my uncle before he could state the reason. He looked trustworthy to me.

I turned my attention back to Grandfather as he began to speak once more.

'I am sorry to inform you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, as decided to retire,' he said. 'Fortunately, his place will be filled by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid.'

Ron, Hermione and I all cheered loudly to this announcement. We couldn't think of anyone who would be better for the job. We only hoped that he wouldn't reintroduce us to Fluffy or Aragog.

Once the cheers had subsided, Grandfather became serious as he turned to a grim topic.

'On a more serious matter, by now most of you would know that Hogwarts will be playing host to the Dementors of Azkaban, until Sirius Black has been capture,' Grandfather said sternly. 'While I have been assured on countless occasions that their presence will not disrupt our day to day activities, I cannot express how serious it is not to give them a reason to harm you. They will not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one your gets in their way. It is for this reason, knew rules have been put in place and I implore you that no one is to leave the school without permission. Dementors are not fooled by tricks and disguises… or even invisibility cloaks.'

Grandfather gave me a look and I rolled my eyes with a groan. I could not believe they were still lecturing me. Okay, so I had gotten into dangerous, near death situations over the last two years, but that didn't mean it was going to happen again, right? After all, third time is the charm for staying out of trouble, is it not?

When the feast appeared, everyone started talking at once and began to tuck into the delicious Hogwarts food.

'I, for one, will definitely be staying away from the Dementors,' Ron said as he piled up his plate. 'That Dementor on the train was bad enough.'

'There was a Dementor on the train?' I looked up sharply. 'What was it doing there?'

'It was searching the train for Black,' Hermione answered, seeing as Ron now had his mouth full of food. 'They are horrible creatures! I felt as though I would never be happy again. I for one do not envy the prisoners of Azkaban having to deal with them all the time.'

'Yeah, but they deserve it,' said Ron, after swallowing a mouthful of food. 'We haven't done anything wrong, so why should we be subjected to their unwanted presence?'

'Well, it is for our own good, though I think they are here to secretly protect Harry,' replied Hermione, before changing the subject to something a little less depressing.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

The next morning, Ron, Hermione and I had our first Divination lesson. While Ron was indifferent about the class, Hermione was sceptical, which made me wonder why she even bothered taking the class. However, I was secretly excited. I would finally be learning about the ability I had inherited from Gran.

When the class began, Professor Trelawney, the Divination teacher, introduced herself and informed us that if we did not possess the all Seeing Eye, then she wasn't likely to be able to teach us much. She also informed us that books wouldn't get us far in this subject. Hermione was horrified by this piece of information. She then discussed the topics we would be learning. This term we would be learning the art of reading tea leaves, which we began to do immediately.

Trelawney told us to get a mug and make ourselves a cup of tea. We were then to drink the tea. Once the dregs remained, we were to swirl them around the cup three times with our left hands, before turning it upside down on its saucer until the last dregs of tea had drained away. Once this was done, we had to hand the cup to our partner to interpret.

Ron and I did as she asked. We looked down at each other's cups.

'You going first, or am I?' I asked Ron.

'You go first.' Ron didn't even hesitate with his answer.

Snorting, I began to interpret his tea leaves, but I saw nothing. All I saw was the tea leaves.

'All I see is the tea leaves,' I said bluntly. Maybe my talent wasn't in reading tea leaves. Maybe all I had were visions.

'You Inner Eye needs testing,' Ron said teasingly. 'Okay, my turn.'

He turned his attention to my cup, looking serious. I nearly started laughing at the look. I had never seen him so serious with a class activity before.

'Well, you got a wonky cross,' Ron said eventually, before consulting his textbook. 'That means "trials and suffering" and that there could be the sun, which means "happiness". So you're going to suffer, but you're going to be happy about it.'

'Why would I be happy about suffering?' I laughed.

'Would you like me to ask the cup for the answer?' Ron asked innocently.

I snorted loudly.

'A little less laughing, boys, and more work,' Trelawney said disapprovingly.

'Sorry, Professor, but apparently I'm going to "suffer and be happy about it"!' I started laughing again.

'Give me the cup.' Trelawney took the cup of Ron. The entire class stopped to watch her.

'The falcon,' she said eventually, 'my dear, you have a deadly enemy.'

_You think?_ I thought sarcastically. You didn't need to be a seer to know about my relationship with Uncle Tom.

'The Skull… danger in your path…'

My Valkyrie instincts picked up to this piece of information, though I knew my family wouldn't be too happy about it.

Trelawney turned the cup, screamed, and dropped the cup, breaking it. I looked at her sharply.

'My dear,' she gasped, 'you have… the Grim.'

I stared at her blankly.

'The what now?' I asked.

'The Grim, child, the Grim,' Trelawney said, shocked that I didn't know what she was talking about. 'It is an omen of death, taking on the shape of a big, black dog.'

Everyone looked at me, eyes wide.

I didn't know how to take this piece of information. While I knew that Divination was real, due to firsthand experience, I was a little sceptical about having a death omen after me. Surely a big, black dog could have another meaning behind it. Maybe I was going to get a pet dog that was big and black?

Trelawney then dismissed the class and we made our way to Transfiguration where Grandmother planned on teaching us about Animagi – the ability to change into a particular animal. I, of course, already knew about Animagi as I had witnessed Grandmother transforming into a cat on the holidays and had immediately started asking her questions. It was for this reason that I didn't bother paying much attention to her. Little did I know, practically no one was paying her any attention. Something Grandmother immediately demanded an answer on. It was no surprise when Hermione answered, informing her that we had just had our first Divination lesson. Understanding immediately crossed her face.

Apparently, Trelawney predicted that one student every year would die, but no one ever had. While she didn't say it out loud, we could tell that she thought that Trelawney was a fraud.

After Transfiguration, we went down to the Great Hall and had lunch, before heading to Hagrid's Hut for our first Care of Magical Creatures lesson. My friends and I were all excited to see what Hagrid had prepared for us, though we were slightly nervous too. Hagrid did have a different definition of "dangerous creatures" to everyone else.

Once the class was outside Hagrid's cabin, Hagrid lead us into a small paddock, on the edge of the forest, containing a creature I had never seen before. It had the body, hind legs, and tail of a horse, but the front legs, wings, and head of a giant eagle.

'Hagrid, what is that?' Ron asked in awe.

'That, Ron, is a Hippogriff,' Hagrid explained. 'The first thing yeh gotta know about hippogriffs is they're proud creatures, easily offended. You don't want to insult a hippogriff, for it may be the last thing you ever do. Now, who wants to come and say hello?'

Hagrid looked expectedly around at the class, and when no one volunteered, I did. I had faced trolls, giant spiders, and a basilisk, so why should a hippogriff scare me, especially when Hagrid was there?

'Well done, Harry,' Hagrid said approvingly as I slowly approached him and the hippogriff. 'Now, you have to let him make the first move. So, step up and give him a nice bow, then you wait and see if Buckbeak bows back. If he does, you can go and touch him.'

'And if he doesn't?' I asked.

'Back up quick.'

I nodded my understanding. Once I was a necessary distance away, I gave Buckbeak a bow, looking curiously up at him. He turned his orange eyes upon me and snapped its beak angrily.

'Back off, Harry, back off!' Hagrid said immediately.

I did as he ordered, but still the hippogriff did not bow.

Hagrid looked worried.

'I think you should join the others, Harry,' Hagrid said, frowning at the hippogriff.

'Why isn't it bowing?' asked Ron.

'It would seem as though Buckbeak doesn't find Harry trustworthy,' Hagrid said thoughtfully. 'This can occur for numerous reasons, such as with wizards wearing disguises.'

I now knew why Buckbeak wouldn't bow. It was because I wasn't in my true form. He could somehow sense that there was something different about me.

Knowing that the hippogriff wouldn't be bowing to me any time soon, I joined my classmates feeling slightly embarrassed. This embarrassment increased when Buckbeak allowed all of my classmates, except for a couple Slytherins, to pat him. Heck, he even allowed Draco to pat him… at least that was until Draco insulted him.

'This is very easy,' he commented loudly, making sure I could hear him. 'I can't believe Potter wasn't able to do pat him. You're not dangerous at all, are you, you great ugly brute?' he added to Buckbeak, before screaming as Buckbeak screeched angrily and rearing. His talons then made a long deep gash on Draco's arm.

Hagrid immediately was by Draco's side, fighting off the hippogriff, before carrying Draco away to the Hospital Wing.

So far, my third year had definitely been interesting.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile**  
>Azaelia Silmarwen Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 2 June 2013  
><strong>Updated:<strong> N/A**  
>Beta:<strong> BETA WANTED

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	19. The Boggart

**CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE BOGGART**

The next day, before breakfast, my friends and I went down to Hagrid's to see how he was, and we were gratefully to discover that he hadn't been fired. However, that didn't mean we weren't worried about him. No, somewhere down the grapevine we learnt that Lucius Malfoy was furious and wanted revenge for what happened to his son. Hence, Hagrid would have to go to a hearing. All of us vowed to him that we would help him develop a strong case for Buckbeak.

Anyway, after breakfast we had our first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with Lupin. I wasn't excited about it. I merely assumed that we had gotten another incompetent teacher for the post. Still, that didn't mean I was hoping that he would be a good teacher. I mean, anyone had to be better than Lockhart and Quirrell, right?

When we arrived at the classroom, we were surprised to find that Lupin wasn't present, but it wasn't long after our arrival that he appeared. Out of all the teachers at Hogwarts, Lupin definitely was the tattiest dressed of them all. However, he nonetheless smiled kindly at us all.

'Good morning,' he greeted. 'I see that you have already gotten your books out, but I'm afraid you won't be needing them today. No, today's lesson will be a practical one. All that you will need is yourselves and your wands.'

My classmates and I all exchanged looks as we put our books away. We were all slightly nervous about the practical lesson. The only practical lesson we had had in this subject was last year, back when Lockhart let those pixies loose in class. None of us were yet to forget that lesson.

Once we were all quite again, Lupin told us to follow him. This made us even more nervous, but we were also curious too.

As a group, we followed our teacher out of the classroom and along the dessert corridor. At the first corner, he turned right down another corridor, leading us directly to the teachers' staffroom. Surprisingly he led us inside, where we found Uncle Severus, sitting in one of the low armchairs looking at us.

'Good morning, Professor Snape,' Lupin greeted as he began to close the staff room door.

Uncle Severus didn't return the greeting.

'Leave the door open. I rather not witness your lesson, especially now that I can see who is in your class,' he said rudely, before sweeping past us all.

'Someone's in a foul mood this morning,' Ron muttered to Hermione and I. 'Wonder what's got his wand in a knot.'

'I think he just despises Lupin,' I whispered back. I couldn't understand why he hates Lupin so much.

I then jumped, with the rest of the class, when the teachers' wardrobe gave a sudden wobble.

'There's nothing to worry about,' Lupin said calmly. 'There's only a boggart in there.'

'What's a boggart?' someone asked nervously.

'That is an excellent question,' said Lupin, 'and maybe one of your classmates can tell you.'

It was no surprise when Hermione's hand went into the air.

'Yes, Hermione?'

I was surprised that he knew Hermione's name, but then I remembered Ron telling me how they had to share a compartment with him on the Hogwarts Express. I assumed he had learnt it then.

'Boggart's are shape-shifters,' she informed us. 'They take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.'

'I couldn't have put it better myself,' said Lupin, making a pleased smile appear on Hermione's face. 'So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This means that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harri?'

A jumped at being addressed. How did he know my name? It didn't take me long to figure it out. I assumed that my scar was showing.

'Seeing as there are so many of us, the boggart won't know what form to take,' I replied.

'Precisely. It's always best to have company when dealing with a boggart as he'll become confused. However, the charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires power of the mind. The thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing.'

'Easier said than done,' I muttered.

'We'll practice the charm without wands first. After me, please... Riddikulus!'

'Riddikulus!' we all said together.

'Good,' said Lupin, 'but that was the easy part. You see, the word alone is not enough. This is where the power of mind comes into play, which is harder than one would expect. So… Neville, could you please help me with a demonstration.'

Neville paled dramatically. He never helped with anything, especially when it was something like this.

'Come on, don't be shy,' Lupin continued with an encouraging smile.

Shaking, Neville nervously approached Lupin.

'Okay, Neville,' Lupin said, once Neville was beside him. 'First things first: what frightens you most?'

Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.

'Sorry, I didn't catch that, Neville,' Lupin said cheerfully.

'Professor Snape,' Neville managed to choke out.

Nearly everyone laughed. Admittedly, I had a lot of trouble not joining in. As the said professor's niece, I knew Uncle Severus the best. Hence, I knew what a big softie he truly was.

'He scares all,' Lupin joked lightly, seeing that Neville looked embarrassed, though I noticed that he glanced at me when he said that. Could it be that he knew the truth? Did he know that Uncle Severus and I were related?

'I believe you live with your grandmother?' Lupin continued.

'Y-yes,' Neville said fretfully, 'but I don't want the boggart to turn into her either.'

I frowned. Why would Neville be scared of the boggart becoming his grandmother? Why was he scared of her?

'You misunderstand me, Neville,' Lupin said gently. 'I merely want you to picture her clothes very clearly in your head. Then, when the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape. I need you to raise your wand and say _Riddikulus_, concentrating hard on your grandmother's clothes.'

The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

'Are you ready, Neville?'

'No,' Neville said quietly.

'Of course you are,' Lupin said reassuringly. 'I have great faith in you that you can do this. I wouldn't have asked, otherwise.'

I smiled as I saw Neville stand up a lot straighter. No one had ever said that to him before.

Lupin smiled at Neville, before opening the wardrobe.

Hook-nosed and menacing, Uncle Severus stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville. Neville backed away, his wand up; mouthing wordlessly, before squeaking out, '_R - r - riddikulus_!'

This resulted in a noise like a whip crack. Uncle Severus stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag.

There was a roar of laughter; the boggart stopped, confused. I was nearly on the ground laughing. It was ten times worse for me, as I was picturing the real Uncle Severus, the one that looks like my father, wearing that outfit. I was laughing that hard that I had tears running down my face.

'You right there, Harry?' Ron laughed.

'I'm never going to be able to look at Snape the same way again!' I informed him.

'I know what you mean!'

'Well done, Neville!' Lupin congratulated. 'Right, everyone, form a line and think about what frightens you the most. You'll then step forward and change it into something you find funny. Right, Parvati.'

Parvati stepped forward, her face set. Uncle Severus rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising. I thought this was an interesting fear and I wondered what made her so afraid of mummies.

'_Riddikulus_!' she cried.

A bandage unravelled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

'That was gracefully,' I muttered to Hermione, who was behind me.

She laughed lightly.

'Seamus!'

Seamus darted past Parvati. Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floor length, black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face. It was a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek that hurt my ears. Again, I was surprised with my friend's fear.

_'Riddikulus_!' Seamus shouted.

The banshee made a harsh noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone. The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle.

Again and again, my classmates rushed forward, eager to have a go. The fears all varied, like everyone's personality varied. There were snakes, spiders, everything imaginable, until it was my turn. Up to this point, I had been debating what my greatest fear was. Was it Uncle Tom, or was it the fear of losing Uncle Severus, Grandfather or Grandmother? In the end, I figured it would be best to think about Uncle Tom. He, at least, wouldn't lead to any awkward questions or justifications.

However, I never got the chance to face the boggart as Lupin stepped in between me and the boggart. It turned into a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said lazily, '_Riddikulus_!'

The boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach.

'Neville, come forward and finish it off!' he said, stepping aside to allow Neville to face it.

Crack! Uncle Severus was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.

'_Riddikulus_!' he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Uncle Severus in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great 'Ha!' of laughter, and the boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

'Excellent!' Lupin cried as the class broke into applause. 'Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone. Let me see... five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the boggart - ten for Neville because he did it twice and five each to Hermione and Harry.'

'But we didn't do anything,' I said. I tried really hard to keep the note of disappointment out of my voice. Why didn't he allow me to face it?

'Yes you did,' Lupin said lightly. 'You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class.' He then addressed the rest of the class. 'Excellent lesson, everyone. For homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarise it for me. Hand it in on Monday. That will be all.'

The class talked excitedly as we left the staffroom, but I couldn't help but feel slightly dejected. I was still brooding of the fact that Lupin hadn't let me face the boggart. Maybe it was just my Valkyrie side being put out about not having the chance to have some excitement.

'Don't you wonder why Professor Lupin's frightened of crystal balls?' I heard Lavender comment thoughtfully.

'It did seem like a strange fear,' Seamus agreed.

'Who is to say why someone's fear is weird,' I said absently. 'Everyone has a good reason why they are scared of something. Like why are you scared of banshees? Surely you have not met one. For all we know, the crystal ball maybe a representation of something. Maybe he's scare of Trelawney.'

Hermione snorted at that.

'Well, he seems like a very good teacher,' she said approvingly. 'I only wish I could have had a turn with the boggart.'

'What would it have been for you?' Ron asked with a snigger. 'A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?'

Hermione gave Ron a look.

'I have gotten nines out of ten in the past, Ronald!' she said hotly.

'I doubt it,' Ron said tactlessly.

I rolled my eyes as another one of their petty arguments.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

For the rest of the day, nothing exciting happened. However, Uncle Severus somehow learnt of Neville's boggart, which made him even nastier to Neville in their Potions lesson that afternoon. Obviously he didn't find it that funny. This was something I commented on when I secretly visited him that night.

'James,' I said to the portrait guarding my uncle's quarters.

With the password spoken, the portrait opened and I stepped inside to find Uncle Severus sitting on the lounge reading a book.

When I saw him, I couldn't help the smile appear on my face as I remembered the boggart.

'Wipe that smile off your face,' he growled.

'Sorry, but it was funny,' I chuckled, before sitting on the couch next to him. 'You would have laughed if you had of been there.'

'I seriously doubt it,' he replied coldly.

I frowned.

'Why are you being so cold?' I couldn't help the note of hurt entering my tone. 'You're acting like Snape!'

Uncle Severus sighed, closing his book.

'I know, sweetheart,' he said, facing me. 'I'm just annoyed about the Aurors lacking ability to catch Black. If I didn't have a responsibility here with you kids I would go after him myself.'

'Is that wise?' I asked a little timidly. 'I mean, you're bent on revenge. You may do something you'd regret.'

Uncle Severus looked at me suspiciously.

'Have you been listening into your Grandfather's and my conversations?'

'I may have accidently overheard a few,' I admitted. 'Why?'

'Because they are nearly the exact same words Father said to me.'

'Really? Then there must be some truth in my words!' I said with a cheeky smile.

'Very funny.'

'So is Black the only thing annoying you?'

'There are other issues, none of which are your concern.'

'Uncle Sev, why do you hate Professor Lupin?' I asked suddenly.

'I don't hate him, I just don't trust him.'

'Why?'

Sighing, Uncle Severus got to his feet and went over to one of his book shelves and pulled a handsome, brown leather book off the shelf, and brought it over to me. He then opened it to reveal photos of his childhood. He absently flicked through until he came to a group photo of four, seventh year boys. I recognised Dad immediately as I could see myself in him as Harry Potter. He had his arms draped over two other boys either side of him. One was a very handsome with longish black hair, while the other was tired looking with sandy hair. Next to the boy with sandy hair was a boy who reminded me of Neville.

'That's Lupin, right there,' Uncle Severus said, pointing to the teenager with sandy hair. 'He was one of James' best friends.'

'So why don't you trust him?' I was confused. Why didn't he trust one of Dad's friends unless… 'You think that he's in lead with Black?'

'I don't know, but I don't want to risk your safety,' Uncle Severus replied as he stared down at his twin's face.

'Is that Black?' I asked, pointing to the handsome boy.

'Yes, and that boy is Peter Pettigrew. A wimp and talentless boy. I still can't understand what James saw in him. The only Gryffindor quality he showed was when he confronted Black after your parents' death. Needless to say, Black killed him, along with those Muggles. No, kill is an understatement. He destroyed him. All they could find of Pettigrew was his finger.'

I stared at Uncle Severus, horrified.

'Looking at this photo, you would have thought that the Marauders would be friends for life,' Uncle Severus sighed.

'The Marauders?'

'That's what the four of them used to call themselves.'

He then smiled a small smile and handed her the photo album.

'Keep it,' he said. 'It was your fathers.'

'Can we look through the photos together?' I asked hopefully.

'Of course,' he said with a smile.

Sitting closely together, the relatives began to flick the photo album. I had a lot of fun laughing at some of the photos of Uncle Severus and Dad as children. There were also some very cute photos of them too. Through these photos, I learnt aside of Dad and Uncle Severus that I never thought that I would knew. And through these photos, I felt closer to the father I'd never have the chance to know. It made me miss him more than I had before. It made me wish, more than ever, that they were still alive and with me.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile**  
>Azaelia Silmarwen Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 2 June 2013  
><strong>Updated:<strong> N/A**  
>Beta:<strong> BETA WANTED

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	20. The Attack on the Fat Lady

**CHAPTER TWENTY: THE ATTACK ON THE FAT LADY**

A month had passed, and the school year began to feel like the past two years, especially when the Quidditch season started. I felt the familiar act of balancing my homework and Quidditch practice times. As usual there were times when I had difficulty doing this, but I had nothing complain about, especially when you compared me to Hermione. I had no idea how she was doing it. The amount of homework and subjects she was doing was unbelievable. I was sure that there had never been a student doing that many subjects in the history of Hogwarts.

But Hermione's school work isn't the story I want to talk about. No, this is about the attack on the Fat Lady, which all started with the first Hogsmeade visit of the year.

After returning to the common room after a long and cold Quidditch practice, I found the common room vibrant with excitement.

'What's going on?' I curiously asked Ron and Hermione. They were sitting in the best seats near the fire doing their Astronomy homework. I gratefully sat in front of the warm flames.

'The first Hogsmeade weekend is at the end of October on Halloween,' replied Ron.

'Oh,' I said disinterestedly.

'I think you are the only third year to be so indifferent when it's their first trip to Hogsmeade,' Fred commented as he and George joined the group.

'Just like I'm the only third year not going?' I replied with a twisted smile.

'What? Didn't your aunt and uncle sign your form?' Ron gasped.

'No. Why would they sign it?' I asked. 'Besides, I was at my grandparent's house for most of the holidays.'

'Why don't they sign it?' Hermione asked curiously. 'Didn't you say next week some time you were likely to be visiting them again?'

'They won't sign it either,' I sighed. 'Everyone wants me to stay at Hogwarts where it is safe, until Black is caught.'

'Huh?' said George.

'According to the Ministry, Sirius Black is a Death Eater how escaped Azkaban Prison to kill me,' I explained in a hollow voice.

'But they can't seriously expect that he would kill you in Hogsmeade where there are lots of people around,' said Ron.

'Ron, have you forgotten those Muggles he murder, in broad daylight, on a busy street?' I asked. 'No one wants to take the risk.'

'What about you?' George asked innocently.

'Personally, I believe everyone is worrying for nothing,' I said flatly. 'If there was a way for me to go to Hogsmeade I would.'

'Maybe you can sneak out with us under the invisibility cloak?' Ron suggested eagerly.

'Ron, have you already forgotten about what Dumbledore said?' Hermione demanded. 'He said that dementors weren't fooled by disguises or invisibility cloaks. Besides, I think they are right. It is safer for Harry here.'

'You're right,' I said sarcastically. 'This way, the only thing I'll die from is boredom.'

The twins and Ron laughed, but Hermione didn't look impressed. However, before she could say anything else on the matter, her cat, Crookshanks, appeared with a dead spider hanging from his mouth. Crookshanks then slowly chewed up the spider, his yellow eyes fixed insolently on Ron.

'Keep him over there,' Ron said irritably. Ever since Crookshanks had tried to eat Scabbers, Ron had hated the cat. 'I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag.'

Without warning, Crookshanks pounced on Ron's bag.

'OI!' Ron roared, seizing his bag as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deep inside it and began tearing ferociously. 'GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!'

Ron tried to pull the bag away from Crookshanks, but the cat clung on, spitting and slashing.

'Ron, don't hurt him!' Hermione squealed.

The whole common room stopped what they were doing to watch. Ron whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top.

'CATCH THAT CAT!' Ron yelled as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table, and chased after the terrified Scabbers.

George made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs, and started making furious swipes beneath it with his front paw.

Ron and Hermione hurried over; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.

'Look at him!' he said furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. 'He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!'

'Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!' Hermione retorted, her voice shaking. 'All cats chase rats, Ron!'

'There's something funny about that animal!' Ron stated as he tried to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into his pocket. 'It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!'

'What rubbish!' Hermione huffed impatiently. 'Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d'you think –'

'That cat's got it in for Scabbers!'

Ron then marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

Up until the end of the month Ron was angry with Hermione, though it did slowly begin to fade away. At least it had faded away enough for him to go to Hogsmeade with her.

'We'll bring you back lots of sweets from Honeydukes,' Hermione informed me as I said goodbye to them at the exit to the grounds.

'Yeah, loads,' said Ron.

'Just make sure you don't eat them all on the way back!' I joked, hiding my sadness. 'Anyway, don't worry about me. I'll see you at the feast. Have a good time.'

As they left I absently began to walk through the castle where I came across Lupin.

'Harri, what are you doing here?' he asked. 'Where are Ron and Hermione?'

'They're in Hogsmeade,' I replied casually, at least I hoped I sounded casual.

'I take it your family didn't sign your permission slip,' he commented casually.

'Good guess,' I said with a smile.

'So what are you doing now?'

'Apart for walking around with nothing better to do? Don't know yet.'

Lupin chuckled lightly.

'Well I was just heading down to the lake, would you care to join me?'

'Sure,' I said brightly, falling into step next to him as we headed down to the lake.

'Are you enjoying the term so far?' Lupin asked me conversationally.

'Yeah, I guess so,' I replied. 'I would have enjoyed it even more if I was able to join my friends on the Hogwarts Express, or being with them now. But other than that, it's been uneventful.'

'Uneventfully meaning that trouble hasn't found you yet?' Lupin asked innocently.

'How -?'

'Your father used to say that too,' Lupin said simply. 'Not to mention the other teachers informed me that he has passed his talent for trouble onto you.'

'They would say that,' I said with a laugh. 'So, any particular reason we're going down to the lake?'

'Professor Dumbledore had the mermaids' capture a grindylow for me for our next lesson,' Lupin explained, 'and I'm going down to pick it up.'

'What's a grindylow?' I asked curiously.

'You'll see,' Lupin said as we approached the lake.

At first we stood there silently waiting, before I leapt back in fright as a hideous head appeared out of the water, shortly followed by another. Their skin was grey with long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow and their teeth were broken. They swam closely to the shore and pushed a decent sized tank of water with something in it onto the bank.

'Thank you,' Lupin said, pulling the tank further onto dry land.

I bent down to have a closer look at the creature within. It was a sickly green creature with sharp little horns had its face pressed against the glass, pulling faces and flexing its long, spindly fingers.

'Is this a grindylow?' I asked, looking up at Lupin.

'Oh, yes. It's a water demon,' Lupin said as he surveyed the grindylow thoughtfully. 'We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? They are strong, but very brittle.'

The grindylow bared its green teeth and then buried itself in a tangle of weeds in a corner.

'Well I'm going to take him back to my office,' said Lupin. 'Would you like to join me and have a cup of tea?'

'Sure,' I said, before helping Lupin carry the grindylow back to his office. 'So what will we be doing with it? Will we actually be attempting to break its grip in class?' I couldn't help the eagerness creeping into my voice.

'No one can deny that you have the Valkyrie instincts,' Lupin said as we entered his office.

I abruptly stopped walking and stared at him wide eyed.

'You know,' I whispered.

'Of course I know,' he said gently. 'I saw you several times when you were a baby. I was friends –'

'With my father, I know,' I said, smiling. 'I saw some photos of the two of you in one of his old photo albums.'

'And probably some of those photos he was supposed to burn,' Lupin said with a good natured laugh as he headed over to a nearby kettle. 'Now I'm afraid, I've only got teabags, but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?'

'How did you know about that?' I asked, amazed.

'Professor McGonagall told me. You're not worried, are you?'

'No!' I laughed. 'Professor Trelawney didn't come across too convincing. Besides, seeing a big dog doesn't necessarily mean the Grim. It could represent something else, right?'

'Yes, I suppose it could,' Lupin replied hesitantly as he poured the tea. He then motioned for me to sit down.

'Professor… why didn't you let me fight that boggart in our first class?' I asked as the thought suddenly occurred to me.

Lupin looked surprised.

'I would have thought that was obvious, Harri,' he said. 'I thought that if the boggart faced you, it would take the shape of Lord Voldemort.'

'You said Voldemort's name!' I gasped.

'As did you,' he replied, sounding amused.

'I know, but I've never heard anyone else, apart from Professor Dumbledore, say his name!'

'There are those who do not fear saying his name, even if we fear the wizard himself,' Lupin replied calmly. 'So tell me, was I wrong to assume Voldemort would materialise in the staffroom?'

'I don't know,' I replied truthfully. 'True, I fear him, but I'm equally scared of other things too. I'm not entirely sure what my greatest fear is.'

'Not many people do,' Lupin said wisely. 'Some fear a lot of things equally, while some are more certain about what their greatest fears are.'

Before I could say anything, there was a knock on the door and Uncle Severus entered the room, carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly. He stopped when he saw me sitting there. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked between Lupin and I. I found this very odd.

'Ah, Severus,' Lupin said with a friendly smile. 'Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?'

Uncle Severus set down the smoking goblet, his eyes still wandering between us.

'Harri was helping me with my grindylow,' Lupin explained, nodding towards the tank in the corner.

Uncle Severus glanced at the grindylow before turning back to Lupin and saying, 'You should drink that directly, Lupin.'

'I will,' said Lupin.

'I made an entire cauldron full,' Uncle Severus continued. 'Just let me know if you need some more.'

'I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus.'

Uncle Severus merely shrugged before leaving the room, but not until he had given me a suspicious look. It was a look that I couldn't understand. Why was he acting so suspicious?

'What is that?' I asked Lupin as he picked up the goblet.

'Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me,' he answered casually. 'I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly difficult.'

He then took a sip and shuddered.

'What's it for?'

'Let's just say that I have been feeling a bit under the weather and this potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it.'

Lupin then drained the goblet and pulled a face.

'It doesn't look like it tastes very nice,' I commented.

'It's disgusting,' Lupin admitted, 'but things that are good for you usually are.'

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

I left Lupin's at midday and made my way down to the Great Hall, but I never made it there as Uncle Severus stepped out of the shadows, in a deserted corridor, stopping me.

'Lunch is in your grandparents' quarters today,' he said bluntly.

'Oh. Okay,' I said, taken back by his bluntness.

Together we walked through the deserted corridors, towards my grandparents' quarters, in silence. It wasn't a comfortable silence either. It was a silence we hadn't experienced since I had found out he was my uncle, and I didn't like it.

'Have I done something wrong?' I demanded suddenly.

'No, but I don't want you to be anywhere near Lupin, asides from class,' Uncle Severus replied sternly.

'What? Why?'

'I don't trust him,' Uncle Severus answered simply.

'Why don't you? He's nice.'

'Just because someone is nice, doesn't mean they can be trusted,' Uncle Severus stated.

'You didn't answer my question.'

'He too was friends with Black.'

'And you think that he is helping Black?' I asked cynically. 'You think that he's going to try and gain my trust so he can lead me blindly to Black?'

'Maybe.'

'Uncle Severus, that is ridiculous! He was my father's friend and Grandfather wouldn't have hired him if he was dangerous.'

'Harrietta, I'm not going to have this conversation with you!' Uncle Severus growled. 'Just stay away from him!'

'Whatever,' I replied grumbly, storming ahead of him.

Due to Uncle Severus and my argument, lunch was beyond unpleasant. It had put us both in a foul mood. Truthfully, the entire family was grateful when lunch was over.

For the rest of the day, I shameful sulked by the lake and I didn't move until Ron and Hermione found me.

'Are you alright, Harry?' asked Hermione, sounding concerned.

'Snape, need I say more?' I replied, getting to my feet.

'No, that could write volumes,' Ron joked lightly, before handing me a bag of brilliantly coloured sweets. 'There you go. We got as much as we could carry.'

'Thanks,' I replied with a smile, trying to be happy for their sakes. 'So what's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?'

Hermione and Ron pretty much went everywhere in Hogsmeade. They went to Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot butterbeer, the local post office, Honeydukes and many other locations. Unfortunately they never got the chance to visit the Shrieking Shack, though. They planned to do that on their next visit.

'So what did you do all day?' Hermione asked, once she and Ron had finished their recount.

'I spend the morning with Lupin,' I replied. 'I helped him get a new creature for our next lesson, before having a cup of tea with him. He's really easy to talk with. He didn't treat me like a student, but rather an equal. Then after lunch I sat here aimlessly.'

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. Both of them were now feeling guilty again for leaving me behind.

'We'd better go to the Great Hall,' I said, having noticed the look. 'The feast will be starting soon.'

Together we headed for the Great Hall and couldn't help but catch our breath when we saw it. It had been decorated hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many blazing orange streamers.

As always, the food was delicious and was far more enjoyable than lunch.

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a re-enactment of his own botched beheading.

With the entertainment over, Ron, Hermione and I followed our fellow Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when we reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, we found it jammed with students.

'Why isn't anyone going in?' Ron said curiously.

I peered over the head in front of me and saw that the portrait was closed. I could also tell that something was wrong with it, but I didn't know what.

'Something's wrong,' I said nervously.

Ron and Hermione quickly looked at me. They knew that when I was nervous, I had a good reason to be. This made them nervous.

'Let me through, please,' Percy's voice suddenly ordered as he came bustling importantly through the crowd. 'What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password - excuse me, I'm Head Boy –'

Silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor.

We then heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp, urgent voice, 'Somebody go and get Professor Dumbledore at once!'

'What's going on?' Ginny asked, having just arrived.

'Don't know,' Ron replied, looking over everyone's head at the portrait. 'For some reason the Fat Lady isn't letting anyone in.'

'I don't think she's doing it on purpose,' I replied anxiously. 'Something's wrong with her.'

Moments later, Grandfather was there, sweeping toward the portrait; we Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through. My friends and I were able to move closer to see what the trouble was.

'Oh, my –' Hermione gasped.

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely.

Grandfather took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned to see Grandmother, Lupin, and Uncle Severus hurrying toward him.

'We need to find her,' Grandfather announced. 'Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady.'

'You'll be lucky!' said the unmistakable cackling voice of Peeves the Poltergeist. He was bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.

'What do you mean, Peeves?' Grandfather asked calmly, making Peeves' grin faded.

The Poltergeist wasn't foolish enough to taunt Grandfather.

'She's ashamed, your Headship,' Peeves answered in an oil voice, which, in my opinion, was no better than his cackle. 'She doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir. Crying something dreadful.'

'Did she say who did it?'

'Oh yes, Professorhead. He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see. Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black.'

I gasped, while my family and Lupin's eyes widened. My grandparents and Uncle Severus immediately looked through the crowd for me. When their eyes found mine, I knew that the rules they had set in place for me this year would get even stricter.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile**  
>Azaelia Silmarwen Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 2 July 2013  
><strong>Updated:<strong> N/A**  
>Beta:<strong> BETA WANTED

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	21. A Depressing Loss

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: A DEPRESSING LOSS**

Due to the attack on the Fat Lady, Grandfather had no choice but to send us Gryffindors back to the Great Hall. We were soon joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. They were all looking extremely confused. The Gryffindors had the great pleasure of informing all about Sirius Black's attack on the Fat Lady, until the teachers arrived.

'The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle,' Grandfather informed us as Grandmother and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. 'For your own safety you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately,' he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. 'Send word with one of the ghosts.'

Before leaving the hall, Grandfather waved his wand twice. This resulted in the House tables going to the edge of the room and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

The moment the teachers were gone, the hall began to buzz excitedly again. At least that was until Percy ordered everyone to go to get into their sleeping bags. Ron, Hermione and I grabbed our sleeping bags and headed to a corner. There we discussed what had happened in private.

'Do you think Black's still in the castle?' Hermione whispered anxiously, once we had settled.

'Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be,' said Ron.

'It's very lucky he picked tonight,' Hermione commented. 'The one night we weren't in the tower...'

'I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run,' said Ron. 'Probably didn't realise it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here.'

Hermione shuddered at the thought before listening in to the conversations around them.

'How did he get in?'

'Maybe he knows how to Apparate.'

'Disguised himself, probably.'

'He could've flown in.'

'Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?' Hermione demanded crossly to Ron and me.

'Probably,' Ron said with a slight snort. 'Why?'

'Because the castle's protected by more than walls,' Hermione informed us promptly. 'There are all sorts of enchantments on it to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here and I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Fitch knows all the secret passages; they'll have them covered...'

'Then how did he get in?' I asked, going back to square one. 'Obviously there is a flaw in the security. If there wasn't, he wouldn't have gotten in.'

'Good point.'

'The lights are going out now!' Percy shouted. 'No more talking!'

The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, Grandfather returned. I watched him looking around for Percy, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Percy was only a short way away from Ron, Hermione and I.

'Any sign of him, Professor?' Percy asked in a whisper.

'No. All well here?'

'Everything is under control, sir.'

'Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow.'

'And the Fat Lady, sir?'

'She's hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr Filch restore her.'

I then heard the door of the hall creak open and more footsteps.

'Headmaster?'

It was Uncle Severus. I made sure to remain absolutely. If anyone was bound to notice that I was awake and listening in, it was him.

'The whole of the third floor has been searched and he's not there,' Uncle Severus informed Grandfather. 'Filch has done the dungeons and there's nothing there either.'

'What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?'

'All searched.'

'Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger.'

'Do you have any theories as to how he got in?'

'Many, Severus, but each of them is as unlikely as the next.'

'Do you remember the conversation we had just before the start of term?'

'I do, Severus,' Grandfather replied with something like warning in his voice. 'And I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it. Now, I must go down to the dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete.'

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

Over the next few days, the topic of discussion was Sirius Black. No matter where you went in the school, that's all you heard. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and unrealistic.

The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and was replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat grey pony. Nobody was very happy about this as Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.

Sir Cadogan, however, was the least of my worries as I was now being closely watched. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with me, and Percy was tailing me everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog. I suspected that Mrs Weasley had put him up to that.

However, things became too much for me when Grandmother suggested to the unthinkable.

Wondering what my grandmother want, I slowly made her way to her office, only to find that Grandfather and Uncle Severus were there too. All of them were wearing serious expressions.

'I'm not going to like what you have to say, am I?' I groaned, taking a seat.

'No, you're not,' Grandmother replied seriously. 'We all agree that it would be best if you stopped going to Quidditch practice in the evenings. Out on the field with only your team members, it's very exposed -'

'We've got our first match on Saturday!' I said, outraged. 'I've got to train!'

'We know, Harri, but your safety is all that matters at the moment,' replied Grandfather.

'This isn't fair!' I raged. 'I don't feel protect! I feel suffocated!'

'Maybe she could still go to Quidditch practices,' Uncle Severus said calmly. 'Why not have a teacher present? Any teacher here is more than capable of protecting her.'

'Very well,' Grandmother sighed. 'I shall speak to Madam Hooch to see if she would be willing to supervise your practices.'

'If you must,' I sighed.

True I was still able to practice, but that didn't mean I felt less suffocated.

Anyway, the weather worsened as the first Quidditch match drew near, but that didn't discourage the Gryffindor team. Wood made sure that we trained in all weather conditions, making sure we were never disadvantaged but the weather during an actual match.

Our first match for the season was supposed to be against Slytherin; however, we ended up playing Hufflepuff instead due to Draco's arm injury. However, we all knew that Draco's arm was fine and that the real reason was because they didn't what to play in the current weather conditions. This was something I had pointed out to Wood.

'I know that, but we can't prove it,' Wood replied bitterly, 'and we've been practicing all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin. Instead it's Hufflepuff and their style's quite different. They've got a new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory.'

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie suddenly giggled.

The boys and I looked at them strangely.

'What?' asked Wood.

'He's that tall, good-looking one, isn't he?' Angelina questioned.

'Strong and silent,' said Katie, and they started to giggle again.

'He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together!' Fred said impatiently. 'I don't know why you're worried, Oliver, Hufflepuff is a pushover. Last time we played them, Harry caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?'

'We were playing in completely different conditions!' Wood snapped. 'Diggory's put a very strong side together! He's an excellent Seeker! We mustn't relax! We must keep our focus! Slytherin is trying to wrong-foot us! We must win!'

Alarmed, the rest of the team and I all exchanged concerned looks. We had never seen Wood like this before. However, my alarm soon became annoyance due to his constant badgering of tips in between classes and every opportunity he got, up until the day of the game.

However, on one occasion, he ended up making me late for my Defence Against the Dark Arts class. I wasn't too worried about it as Lupin was a fair and understanding professor. The only problem was, Lupin wasn't taking his class that day.

'Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin,' I apologised as I rushed in side. 'I -' I broke off when I saw that it wasn't Lupin teaching the class, but rather Uncle Severus and he did not look impressed.

'This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor,' he said coldly. 'Sit down.'

'Where's Professor Lupin?' I asked as I slowly made my way to my seat next to Ron.

'He says he is feeling too ill to teach today,' Uncle Severus replied with a slightly twisted smile. 'Now, as I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far –'

'Please, sir, we've done boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows,' Hermione said quickly, 'and we're just about to start –'

'Miss Granger, I was not asking for information,' Uncle Severus interrupted her impatiently. 'I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organisation. Now, today we shall discuss werewolves.'

'But, sir,' said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, 'we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start hinkypunks –'

'Miss Granger,' Uncle Severus began, trying to keep his temper in check. 'Last time I looked, I was the one teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394.'

Groaning, the class did as Uncle Severus ordered. We could all see that Uncle Severus was not to be tested today.

'Now, which of you can tell me the difference between a werewolf and an animagus?' Uncle Severus asked, gazing out across the classroom.

He had that look on his face where he knew no one would be able to answer his question, Hermione notwithstanding, of course. As usual, his look wasn't in vain. No one, except for Hermione, put their hand up.

'That's what I thought,' he said with a sigh. 'How disappointing.'

'Please, sir,' Hermione nearly begged, wanting to answer the question, 'an animagus is a wizard who elects to turn into an animal, whereas a werewolf has no choice. With each full moon he changes. He forgets all that is human and would even kill his best friend –'

'That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger,' Uncle Severus interrupted coolly, though I was surprised that he let her say that much. 'Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all.'

Hermione went very red, put down her hand, and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. I glared openly at Uncle Severus. True, he usually acted harsh, but he was going beyond his usual act. In fact, I didn't think he was acting. He was truly annoyed today, and Hermione had made him snap.

It was for that reason that I stayed back after class to give him a piece of my mind.

'Was that really necessary?' I asked him coldly, once everyone was gone. 'Did you have to upset my best friend like that?'

'Harrietta, I am not in the mood today to have you bickering at me,' Uncle Severus replied hotly. 'Now, go to your next lesson, and don't forget to do that essay on werewolves. It is bound to… enlighten you.'

Uncle Severus had given the class homework to write an essay on werewolves as punishment for Hermione's unwanted comments.

'Enlighten me? How on earth is an essay supposed to enlighten me?' I demanded.

'Do it and you will hopefully see.'

Growling slightly, I stormed out of the classroom to my next lesson.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

The first Quidditch match of the season was soon upon us. Unfortunately, the weather wasn't being kind. The say of the game, the weather was terrible. It was cold and pouring rain. Thunder could be heard in the distance.

However, despite the weather, no one was really disheartened. Everyone was eager to see the game. Only the players were a little bummed about having to play in such atrocious weather, but once we were all in the air, we didn't give the weather a second thought. All we thought about was getting the game over and done with. No one wanted to stay out there any longer than was necessary.

After all, within five minutes I was soaked and frozen. Even with my keen Valkyrie sight I was hardly able to see my teammates, let alone the tiny Snitch. It made me wonder how everyone else was doing.

I ended up flying backwards and forwards across the field past blurred red and yellow shapes, with no idea of what was happening in the rest of the game. Twice I came very close to being hit by a Bludger.

I ended up losing track of time, wishing that the game would finish already. It was not enjoyable playing in this weather, especially since it was getting harder to hold my broom straight. Curse my light weight.

Suddenly, there was a clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more dangerous every minute. I knew that I needed to get the Snitch quickly. Hence, I turned, planning to head back toward the middle of the field, but as another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, I saw something that distracted me entirely; the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats.

I blinked. It looked like the dog from my tea leaves. Wondering if I was seeing things, I rubbed my eyes and looked again. It was gone.

'What the -?' I muttered.

'Harry!' Wood's anguished yell sounded from the Gryffindor goal posts. 'Harry, behind you!'

I looked wildly around and found Cedric Diggory speeding up the field, and a tiny speck of gold was shimmering in the rain-filled air between us.

With a jolt of alarm, I threw myself flat to the broom handle and zoomed toward the Snitch. That's when it happened.

An eerie silence fell across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. Then a horribly unfamiliar wave of cold swept over and inside me. Admittedly scared, I took my eyes off the Snitch and looked down. At least a hundred big, hooded creatures with their hidden faces pointing up at me, were standing beneath me.

It was as though freezing water were rising in my chest, cutting at my insides. And then I heard screaming… a woman begging followed by a familiar cold voice.

'Not Harri, please not Harri!'

'Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now...'

'Not Harri, please no, take me instead!'

Numbing, swirling white mist was filling my brain and before I knew it, my world went black.

**-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-**

'Lucky the ground was so soft.'

'I thought he was dead for sure.'

I could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense to me. I had no idea where I was, or how I got there. All I did know was that every inch of me was aching as though it had been beaten.

'That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life.'

Scariest... the scariest thing... hooded black figures... cold ... screaming...

My eyes snapped open as it all clicked and I remember part of what had happened.

I was lying in the Hospital Wing with the Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, gathered around my bed. Ron and Hermione were also there, looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool.

'Harry!' said Fred, who looked extremely white underneath the mud. 'How're you feeling?'

'What happened?' I said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.

'You fell off your broom,' Fred responded quietly. 'Must've been - what - fifty feet?'

'We thought you'd died,' said Alicia, who was shaking.

'It'd take more than falling off a broom to finish me off,' I replied lightly. 'But I was talking about the match.'

Everyone exchanged looks around me.

'What aren't you telling me?' I asked, dreading the answer.

'We lose,' George answered gently. 'Diggory caught the Snitch just after you fell. He didn't realise what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off, wanting a rematch. But they won fair and square... even Wood admits it.'

'Where is Wood?' I questioned when I suddenly realised that he wasn't there.

'He's still in the showers,' Katie answered.

'Is he mad or disappointed with me?' I asked quietly.

Fred put his arm around my shoulders in a brotherly manner.

'C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before,' he said. 'There had to be one time you didn't get it. Besides, it's not over yet. We lost by a hundred points, so that means we can still make a comeback, depending on how the other matches go.'

'I guess,' I sighed.

'Come on, cheer up! You're still the best Seeker we've ever had.'

'Dumbledore was really angry,' Hermione informed me in a trembling voice. 'He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away... He was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him –'

'McGonagall and Snape were there too,' Ron added. 'They were bent over you, before Snape picked you up and took you to the castle with McGonagall. It was weird that he didn't conjure a stretcher.'

'I guess,' I muttered, though it wasn't strange to me. I knew that Uncle Severus and my grandparents would have been beyond worried about me. 'Did someone get my Nimbus?'

Everyone exchanged looks again.

'Where's my Nimbus?' I demanded.

'Well... when you fell off, it got blown away,' Angelina answered hesitantly. 'And it hit the Whomping Willow.'

I closed my eyes and flung myself back down on the bed with a frustrated sigh. I knew that there was no way the broom could have survived crashing into that violent tree. After all, look what it did to Mr Weasley's car last year.

Without a doubt, this had been the worse Quidditch match I had ever played in.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile**  
>Azaelia Silmarwen Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 3 July 2013  
><strong>Updated:<strong> N/A**  
>Beta:<strong> BETA WANTED

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.**


	22. Hogsmeade

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: HOGSMEADE**

That night, my family came to visit me as there were no students or teachers around. The moment Uncle Severus saw me sitting up glumly in bed; he was by my side embracing me in one of his famous loving hugs. His hugs always made me feel better.

'Thank goodness you are alright,' he breathed, before allowing Grandmother and Grandfather to hold me tightly.

'You gave us such a fright,' Grandmother almost cried out.

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you,' I muttered.

'We don't blame you, sweetie,' Grandfather replied firmly. 'We blame those monstrous creatures.'

'Your grandfather's been giving the Ministry an earful about the dementors,' Uncle Severus informed me, looking slightly amused.

'So are the dementors gone?' I questioned.

'Unfortunately no,' Grandfather sighed unhappily. 'We're stuck with them until Sirius Black is caught. However, if they come into the grounds again and attack anyone, I will make sure they are removed.'

'I just hope he is caught soon,' Grandmother said quietly.

'So when can I get out of here?' I asked. 'It's very depressing in here.'

'Madam Pomfrey wants to keep you in here for the rest of the weekend.'

'Why? I feel fine,' I nearly whined.

'We want to be safe,' Grandfather replied patiently. 'Besides, dementor attacks aren't to be taken lightly.'

I gave another groan.

On Monday I was free to leave the Hospital Wing, where I then had to endure Draco and the other Slytherins taunting me about happened in the last Quidditch match. They all found it hilarious that I fell of my broom. Thankfully, I had Ron and Hermione by my side. They always stood up for me. Ron even managed to get a detention in Potions when he stood up for me. This ended up putting him in a foul mood, though. Not that the mood was aimed at me but rather Uncle Severus.

Luckily, Uncle Severus wasn't taking Lupin's class again, seeing as Lupin was back, looking as though he had been sick.

During that Defence lesson, Lupin taught them about hinkypunks, after he had listened patiently to everyone complaining about the way Uncle Severus had taught the class. He also informed us that we didn't have to do the werewolf essay. Hermione had already done it, so she wasn't too thrilled.

After the lesson, Lupin asked me to stay back. Now, a part of me want to ignore his request to obey Uncle Severus, but it was over powered by how comfortable I felt with him and how I trusted him. Hence, I stayed to speak with him.

'I heard about the match,' said Lupin, piling books into his briefcase, 'and I'm sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?'

'No,' I replied sadly. 'The tree smashed it to bits.'

Lupin sighed.

'They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts,' Lupin told me. 'People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end a boy nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance.'

'I've seen what it can do to a car, so there's no need to tell me that a broom wouldn't stand a chance,' I said.

'Ah yes. The flying car incident. Professor Sprout told me all about that.' Lupin looked slightly amused.

'Why doesn't it surprise me that you've heard about that?' I wondered. 'Did you hear about the dementors too?'

'Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time; furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds. I suppose they were the reason you fell?'

'Good guess,' I said with a hint of bitterness, 'but what I don't understand is why they went for me out of everyone else out there. Why was I their target? Is it because I'm a Valkyrie?'

'I don't think it was because you are a Valkyrie, but rather because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have,' Lupin replied thoughtfully.

'Ron and Hermione told me about the dementor on the train and how you made it go away,' I said as an idea suddenly occurred to me.

'There are certain defences one can use against dementors,' replied Lupin, 'but there was only one dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist.'

'What defences?' I said at once. 'And can you teach me?'

'I'm not an expert at fighting dementors, Harri, quite the contrary...'

'But if the dementors come to another Quidditch match, I need to be able to fight them,' I argued. 'And you are the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who better to teach me.'

Lupin looked down at my determined face, hesitated, then said, 'Very well, I'll try and help.'

'Thank you!' I exclaimed.

'It'll have to wait until next term, though,' Lupin informed me. 'I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill.'

Thrilled with the aptitude of dementor lessons and the improvement in the weather, the rest of the term seemed to fly by. Before I knew it there were two weeks left before the end of the term.

Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Several teachers had gone all out and had decorated there classroom for the occasion.

This year, my family and I decided to have it that I pretended to leave Hogwarts. I told Ron and Hermione that I would be staying with my grandparents, which wasn't a complete lie. I was surprised, however, when I learnt that Ron and Hermione were remaining at Hogwarts. Ron stated that he couldn't stand being in Percy's presence over the holidays, while Hermione insisted she needed to use the library.

However, any good feelings I had vanished when the next Hogsmeade trip arrived. I was the only third year remaining at school, hence the only one not excited. That meant that on the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, I ended up bidding Ron and Hermione goodbye, before heading up the marble staircase alone making my way back towards the Gryffindor Tower.

'Psst - Harry!'

I turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor, to see Fred and George peering out at me from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.

'What are you doing?' I asked curiously. 'How come you're not going to Hogsmeade?'

'We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go,' said Fred, with a mysterious wink.

He something from inside his cloak and handed it to me. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it. I gave them an unimpressed look.

'And what is this supposed to be?'

'This, Harry, is the secret of our success,' said George, patting the parchment fondly.

It's a wrench giving it to you,' Fred added, 'but we decided your needs are greater than ours.'

'So you're giving me some rubbish?'

'Rubbish!' said Fred, closing his eyes with a grimace as though I had mortally offended him. 'It's not rubbish at all.'

'When we were in our first year, Harry, we got into a spot of bother with Filch by letting off a Dungbomb in the corridor,' George explained. 'So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual detention disembowelment and we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.'

'Don't tell me,' I said with a laugh.

'Well, what would you've done?' said Fred. 'George caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb, giving me the chance to grab this.'

'And what is it?'

The twins exchanged a long before George took out his wand and touched it with the tip.

'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,' he said, watching my face closely.

Immediately, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed: _Messrs' Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present The Marauder's Map_. It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds, but the truly remarkable thing were the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labelled with a name in minuscule writing.

Now, while that was truly amazing, what touched me even more was that this was one of my father's, and his friends', creations. I was holding something that had one belonged to my dad.

'I don't believe it,' I whispered.

'Yeah, amazing, isn't it?' Fred said, mistaking my reaction.

'Why would you give me something like this?' I asked them curiously, though I knew that this rightfully belonged to me, Lupin and Sirius Black.

'Showing where everyone in the castle is isn't the reason we're giving it to you,' replied George. 'Another benefit of this map is that it shows several secret passages out of the castle, and this one –' he pointed to a certain part of the map, will lead you right into Honeydukes cellar.'

'Which means I can go to Hogsmeade without any teachers or dementors knowing,' I said as I slowly began to see the Christmas present the twins had given me. They had given me the means to visit Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione.

'Exactly. Now, don't forget to wipe it after you've used it or anyone can read it,' Fred warned. 'Just tap it again and say, "Mischief managed".'

'Thank you so much!' I replied sincerely.

'It was nothing,' Fred said, waving the gratitude aside. 'Just make sure you have a good time and we'll see you in Hogsmeade!'

The twins then left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way.

It didn't take me long to follow. I ran from the room all the way to the statue of the one-eyed witch. There, I looked at the map again and saw the tiniest speech bubble had appeared next to my figure on the map. The word inside said, "Dissendium".

'_Dissendium_!' I whispered, tapping the stone witch with my wand.

At once, the statue's hump opened wide enough to admit a fairly thin person. Without thinking, I ended the passage, casting Lumos as I went seeing as the passageway was very dark.

After what felt like an hour, I finally arrived at the end of the passage. Above me was a trapdoor. Very slowly and carefully, I pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge.

I was in what appeared to be a cellar, which was full of wooden crates and boxes.

I climbed out of the trapdoor and replaced it - it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was nearly impossible to tell it was there. With this done I cautiously made my way toward the wooden staircase that led upstairs, where I could hear voice and the tinkle of a bell signalling the opening and closing of a door.

With much care, skills and luck, I managed to sneak out of the cellar and into Honeydukes store, where I blended with my school mates. None of them gave me a second glance as I took a look around. Some didn't even look at me once as they were too focused on the sweets.

Anyway, I ended up eventually leaving Honeydukes and made my way to the Shrieking Shack, where I knew Ron and Hermione wanted to go. And it was there that I found them, but they weren't alone. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were with them.

'... are you two shopping for your new dream home?' I heard Draco question my friends with a mocking cruelness. 'Bit grand for you, isn't it, Weasley? Don't your family all sleep in one room?'

'Shut your face, Malfoy!' Ron growled angrily.

'Oh, not very friendly,' Draco sniggered. 'Boys, I think it is time we show Weasley who his superiors are.'

'I hope you don't mean yourself!' Hermione retorted angrily.

'How dare you speak to me, you filthy little Mudblood!'

Eyes darkening, I quickly grabbed a handful of snow, rolled it into a ball, and hurled it straight at the back of Draco's head. I didn't stop to see if it had hit my target, for I was silently, but quickly, moving to a better hiding spot, throwing more snow and mud balls as I went.

When I was in my new location, close by to where Draco and his friends stood, I cautiously looked through the bushes and took in the muddy Draco and snow covered Crabbe and Goyle. I was glad to see that they looked scared. I then looked at Ron and Hermione. Both of them were looking uncertain.

'Go away!' I said in a voice similar to the Bloody Baron's. I almost laughed out loud as my classmates all jumped violently. 'Go away or be cursed!'

'Let's get out of here, Draco!' Goyle yelled, grabbing Draco's arm and dragging him away. They were soon out of sight.

Ron and Hermione stood there nervously, wondering whether or not they should leave. They then jumped as the bushes I was hiding behind rustled as I revealed myself. They relaxed dramatically when they saw me.

'Harry? What are you doing here?' Hermione gasped.

'I came to see Hogsmeade and hang out with you two,' I replied casually.

'How did you get passed the dementors?' Ron asked in awe.

'Fred and George gave me an early Christmas present,' I explained as we began to walk back to the village. 'They gave me a map that shows me where everyone is in Hogwarts, and it shows several secret passages out of the castle. The one I used that goes straight to Honeydukes.'

'How come Fred and George never gave it to me!' Ron demanded, outraged. 'I'm their brother!'

_That's not saying much,_ I thought. _They have many brothers. Besides, it rightfully belongs to me!_

'But Harry isn't going to keep it!' said Hermione, as though the idea were absurd. 'He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?'

'What makes you think I'd do a stupid thing like that?' I asked. 'I might as well hand in my invisibility cloak while I'm at it!'

'But what about Sirius Black?' Hermione argued. 'He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!'

'He can't be getting in through a passage,' I said confidently. 'Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three - one of them caved in, one's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, and the one I just came through. Black wouldn't use it because he would end up alerting the owners of Honeydukes to his presence, not to mention the small detail that the passage entrance is well disguised.'

'And I'd like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with dementors swarming all over the village after sunset.'

'Yes, but –' Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another problem. 'Look, Harry still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade. He hasn't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, he'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet - what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?'

'Hermione, you're being paranoid,' I told her calmly. Besides, he would have a hard time going around unnoticed and an even harder time finding me with all the other students around.'

Hermione didn't look convinced, but she reluctantly let the matter go as Ron led me over to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer.

* * *

><p><strong>Facebook page:<strong> link on profile**  
>Azaelia Silmarwen Facebook page:<strong> link on profile  
><strong>Written:<strong> 23 September 2013  
><strong>Updated:<strong> N/A**  
>Beta:<strong> BETA WANTED

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY.**


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